


Vessels of Intent Part 2

by PJMarshall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Celtic Mythology & Folklore, F/M, original plus size female character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJMarshall/pseuds/PJMarshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 'Bruno Gunnerson' Hunt<br/>Dean's 'Mobile mystery date' reappears in his life.<br/>but will she keep her mouth shut about Mobile?<br/>She holds the clues and help Sam and Dean need.<br/>Who will crack first; Dean or the case?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vessels of Intent Part 2 'The Bruno Gunnerson Hunt'

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in late 2012 Early 2013 and posted on Live Journal between 2013 and 2014 along with 'Vessels of Intent Part 1' and 'Ae Fond Kiss and then we sever some Supernatural Sons of Bitches'.( The three parts of the 'Vessels' series. Part 1 and 2 are set around early Season 3. 'Ae Fond Kiss.....' Directly after 'Weekend at Bobby's' season 6 hence the Winchester Bros find themselves on a hunt in Scotland.) Part 2 will be 2 chapters (hopefully) the original work is 79 pages but AOOO seems to be far more space friendly than Live Journal so hope it will all fit in to 2 maybe 3 Chapter posts. Any additional notes are on Part 1 . Comments much appreciated. If you take the time. Thank You for reading.

SUPERNATURAL FAN FICTION  
VESSELS OF INTENT  
by PJ Marshall

“Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves”  
(Confucius)

  PART II

 

Wheeling, WV (Oct 31st 1987)

Bruno Gunnerson stuffs his hands into the pockets of his letter jacket as he makes his way along Clay Avenue. The two red cups of beer he had drank at Ryan's Halloween bash had long since worn off. Even though the noise from the party still rings in his ears and echoes in his head. 

As does Misty Jensen's pleas to 'take her upstairs'. Cute as she was in her 'Like a Virgin' Madonna garb; Misty had literally worked her way up to propositioning Bruno by working her way through the rest of his team mates in ranking order. So Misty, was most definitely nothing 'like a virgin.' She was much more like a social climber and the last girl on earth Bruno wanted. 

The whole scene depressed Bruno if he was honest. His parents; Ryan and the whole town thought he had the world at his feet. They all treated him like some kind of hero but Bruno knew that was far from the truth. 

He couldn't get more than ten steps anywhere in town without someone telling him how great he was or what was best for his 'bright future' but They all may as well have been looking down on his life from up at 'Stone Cemetery' because they had about as much insight as the long deceased Moses Shepard.

When it came to what 'he' needed and 'his' wants; none of them had the slightest clue. That was the thing; Bruno's dirty little secret. The only thing he needed was the love of the one girl he could no longer have. He had felt he had no choice but to walk out of her life all those years ago and as far as he could imagine there was no way for him to walk back into it.  
\-------------------

Bruno and Greta

Bruno Gunnerson and Greta Foster had been joined at the hip since kindergarten. By the time 1983 and eighth grade rolled around this inseparable friendship had started to make tentative steps towards 'first love'. You could say Bruno and Greta were Wheeling's answer to Kevin Arnold and Winnie Cooper.

On the final Tuesday before summer ended and 8th grade began, Bruno's mom had dragged him to the mall to get kitted out for the new semester. It was the shopping trip that never seemed to end. Bruno was to meet Greta at their treehouse in the woods that afternoon and as the trek from store to store dragged on long past noon he could feel their time together being eaten away.

Bruno had blushed as he thought about the first kiss they had had in the treehouse the previous day and like any red blooded boy he had been eager to continue practising this new found skill they had discovered together.

When his mom finally parked her Station Wagon up the rain soaked drive of their immaculate and neatly appointed home; Bruno was fit to burst. Sadly so was his bubble. 

The hell of the world's longest shopping trip would pale into nothing more torturous than a foot tickle compared to the fresh hell that was about to be delivered to him by his Uncle Oliver.

Oliver Kearns rose from the steps of the Gunnerson's front porch the apparition of a man dragged through a hedge backwards. His face was ashen with shock, the knees of his rain saturated jeans stained green and brown as though he had been kneeling in the mud; his shirt was drenched through and splayed across his chest was a large throbbing red and bronze stain that was unmistakably blood. Greta's blood.

\-------------------  
Bruno stops under the street light opposite Greta's house, pulling himself tight inside his jacket trying to shake off the chill of the first cold breaths of winter that were playing round his ears or was it the chill of the memory of the worst Summer of his life?

The Foster's place was carefully maintained but practically unchanged since those kindergarten days when he and Greta would play in the sandbox and chase each other across the lawn. 

Those memories from 1976 were so vivid to Bruno he almost believed that if he had the key to turn night back to afternoon he would see Greta and his pre-school self sitting side by side on the porch steps, wrapped up in their coats using a mixture of their early grasp at reading and pure guess work to figure out what kind of adventure Harold and Lilac were embarking on with the purple crayon.

Bruno usually avoided coming this way it was too painful but for some reason tonight he was being drawn to this house. Greta had been at the forefront of his mind for days; every song on the radio seemed to remind him of her.

Stepping out from his viewpoint under the street light opposite the Foster Place. Bruno swiftly crosses the street and is lost from sight in the foliage of the cluster of old trees that shelter the right hand side of the house from the view of the neighbourhood.

As kids; Bruno and Greta had spent hours under the safety of these tree branches but Bruno's current experience was nothing like he remembered as he tries to bend his six foot two inches frame into what feels like a five foot four inches height gap. Straightening up he suddenly realises he is right outside Greta's bedroom window. 

Bruno stands transfixed in the pool of light that is shining from inside like he is caught in the tractor beam of a UFO. The muffled sound of the music being played inside makes the panes of glass on the bay windows subtly vibrate. At the centre of this transfixing window display is Greta; the window's drapes wide to the world are framing her performance as she dances unabashedly like a little girl. A little girl inside the body of a beautiful seventeen year old woman.

Spinning around her hands out wide; Greta's long brunette hair halo's her shoulders. She stops to catch her breath; a warm smile on her full  
lips. Her skin is glowing from the heat of the dance and her chest heaves to the rhythm of her decelerating pulse.

A dangerous cocktail of feelings begin to rise in Bruno's belly. The long buried hurt and anger at what the events of that Tuesday stole from him. The ever present guilt he feels from not being there that day and from abandoning their friendship altogether before High School and right down at the pits lowest recess underneath his muscle toned hipbones, lust.

All Bruno knew for sure about Greta's accident was that it was his fault. If he and his mom had got back from the mall on time then Greta wouldn't have been at the tree house alone. If he had been there he could have caught her when she slipped in the rain and stopped her from losing balance and falling over the railing; from hitting her head on the deck. 

Bruno balls his hands into tight fists as he feels tears of frustration sting his eyes. Greta is dancing again blurring in and out of his watery vision like a ghost; the ghost of the future they should have had. He wipes his eyes roughly with his sleeve, scratching up his face as he does so but he doesn't care. Lust and guilt are eating him alive. The sight of Greta reminds him of how much he wants her. The guilt reminds him how wrong and filthy he is to want her. She isn't his Greta anymore.

Being knocked unconscious by the deck had prevented Greta from tensing up during the fall and sustaining a greater severity of bodily damage when she hit the ground but the brain damage sustained from the blow of the deck had left her with the mentality of a little girl of around nine. 

As the needle grinds to a halt at the end of side one, Greta lifts it carefully and for the 100th time that day flips the long play disc over to side two. Placing it back on the turntable, she lifts the needle arm and a reassuring electric hum buzzes from the small motor as the turn table rotates back into life.  
Greta gently places the needle down in the groove that indicates the second song on side two taking great care not to scratch the record's black lacquered surface.

The album was Robbie Robertson's new self titled offering and the song was 'Somewhere Down the Crazy River'. Greta could not get enough of this beautiful and spooky mostly talking song. As Robbie Robertson said in it himself; it gave her the shivers. 

The album had been released less than a week but as usual Aunt Helen (who was more like a sister than an Aunt to Greta)had made sure her niece didn't miss out on something so cool.  
Helen, being much younger and much more 'tuned in' than Greta's mom had always kept Greta up to date about the best books, bands and movies.  
Rather than her mom it had been Helen who had explained all the teenage things that were happening to her and Helen had been the only one Greta had told what she really remembered about what happened at the treehouse on the day she fell, although to be totally accurate; she didn't fall.

It had made Helen's soul ache to watch her niece sob her heart out night after night in the months after the 'accident' and then again at the end of the following summer when Bruno's dwindling visits to his one time best friend stopped altogether.  
Helen would hold Greta in her arms rocking her and promising her one day she would make it all alright; that Bruno would come back. Greta had full faith that Helen would make good on her promise because she knew Helen's 'big secret' too. Aunt Helen; could do magick.  
\-------------------  
Helen's Story

It was the Summer of 1971, when eighteen-year old Helen Walker took to the road, her head full of 'Counterculture' promise. 

The death of their father and mental illness of their mother, nine years ago had forced Helen's sister Georgia to become Helen's guardian when she had been only eighteen and Helen had been nine.

Five-years ago Georgia had married Ronald “ the square”. Then three years into their marriage little Greta had been born and it was then that sixteen year- old Helen decided that as soon as she was finished high school she was going to get out of their hair and let them be a family. 

As thankful as Helen was for the care Georgia and Ronald had taken of her she longed to experience the adventures that the world outside their little town seemed to offer. She wanted to experience a life completely different to the hum drum 'apple pie' of her sister's. 

During the winter solstice of '71, Helen found herself in Hollywood, California thanks to the curiosity of her friend (and sometimes lover) Zara, who had talked her into going to a ceremony being headlined by Zsuzsanna Budapest. 

An occasion that would historically be know as the revival of the 'Dianic Wiccan Tradition' and Zsuzanna Budapest would become know as of the mother of this modern revival .

Zara fell hook,line and sink for the movement and Helen ready to experience any of the adventures life had to offer followed her. After a year and three months; Zara was well involved with the coven and the religion but Helen was feeling restless. She was not lesbian at heart and she was growing tired of the charade of belief she was living. What had started as a bit of fun was now compelling Helen to dig deeper and so she left the sisterhood behind and headed back on the road. 

As she travelled from State to State, her quest for knowledge seemed to draw her to places where she could find information on witchcraft in its traditional form and her quest for knowledge became a hunger to read every book and article on 'Traditional Witchcraft' she could get her hands on.

One rainy night in early 1973, while hitch-hiking her way through North Carolina; Helen was given a ride by Beatrice Glanville. Beatrice was mostly known locally as a spinster in her fifties; an eccentric who lived outside town in the run down remains of what was once her affluent family home. It was speculated in whispers that she was a witch but never proven. 

Beatrice was indeed a powerful practitioner of 'Traditional Witchcraft'; the last in her line. The spirits had compelled her to go out in the rain that night to look for this young woman by the roadside. They had told her Helen was a seeker who had dedicated her heart to the craft and that Beatrice was to take her in as a surrogate daughter and apprentice. So when training was complete Helen would receive and carry on the 'Glanville' linage. 

On the twenty-first of December 1975, Helen (or Holly Glanville as she was now known) returned to the remote 'Glanville' house to find Beatrice had been butchered. Helen suspected the supernatural hunters Beatrice had warned her about; vigilantes who combed the country looking for their kind killing first and asking questions later. Beatrice had instructed Helen in what she must do in such a turn of events.

So grabbing Beatrice's grimorie and any other tools or effects of significance and loading them into Beatrice's car. Helen then torched the house and fled back to the safest place she could think of; Georgia and Ronald's house in Wheeling.

Her sister and Ronald welcomed Helen back with open arms secretly hoping that her days of adventures were now behind her. Only one thing had really changed since Helen had been gone and that was little Greta, who at the age of six bared an uncanny resemblance to her Aunt. Greta approached Helen shyly; her favourite book in hand and from that day on the two were inseparable. Helen settled back into family life putting the grimorie and tools out of sight and the 'Craft' and her experiences eventually to the back of her mind. 

Until late one Spring afternoon in 1979. Helen and nine-year old Greta had been hanging out in Helen's room when Greta stumbled upon Beatrice's grimorie. Helen told Greta the family friendly version of her story and swore her favourite confidant to secrecy. That night Helen burned all of Beatrice's things; the tears caused by the sting of the smoke and the tears of her long held grief streaking down her soot stained cheeks as she watched the last remains of their short but happy time together turn to ash. Helen decided that night she would cut all ties with the tradition and try and live a normal life for good. 

What Helen didn't grasp was that although the recipes to conjure up magick may have been in the books, tools and sigils that were smouldering before her; the actual power (and it was a great power indeed) was inside her it had been bestowed to her fully on Beatrice's death.

In the summer of 1983, the restless need for adventure was calling again for Helen and for the first time in a long time she felt alive. A brief potential romance with Greta's friend Bruno's visiting Uncle had led to nothing; so as planned Helen quit her diner job and with her savings headed off to California for a month. The second stop on her trip was San Francisco. 

Helen couldn't deny as she browsed through the little alternative stores on Haight -Ashbury she was being drawn back to the 'Craft'. At one store in particular (three days before Greta's accident) Helen met Saul; their attraction to each other was instant. Helen was mesmerized by Saul's easy charisma, his passion for and his extensive knowledge of the craft and the power and danger that danced in the glow of his piercing green eyes. One look at those enchanting emerald irises and Helen's body was pliable putty in Saul's hands. They were lovers within an hour of meeting.

Saul, opened Helen back up to the 'Craft': awaking the power and desire that was buried deep within her. He introduced her to aspects of it that Beatrice had not. Aspects that could be manipulated for darker purposes. The use of tightly bound demons and curses, incantations that summoned demonic forces and other practises more aligned with malicious intention. Practices Beatrice had stringently warned Helen to avoid knowing the type of intent she would need to use them would eventually devour Helen's humanity and her soul.

Remembering the principles Beatrice had taught her. Helen had been wary of what Saul offered her at first but after Greta told her the truth of what happened at the treehouse Helen became so full of guilt for leaving Greta prey to a monster, so brimming with rage and hungry for vengeance that all bets of her walking away from the solutions Saul offered were off. 

Helen swore revenge; she was going to make sure Oliver Kearn's knew fear and suffering beyond his imagination for what he did to her beloved niece.  
Thanks to Oliver, Greta would never marry. Never have the choice to have children; to fall in love. He had stolen her future. So in kind Helen pledged to punish Oliver and every male who came after him in his family blood line. She swore to toy with them then rendered them extinct.  
\---------------------

Greta sways along to the music. Spinning around her eyes closed, her arms swung out wide; lost in the song. Opening her eyes again she catches sight of more than just her reflection in the window. A gasp of fear traps her breath in her throat and then her lips twitch into a full and joyful smile as she recognises the face of her long lost love. 

Aunt Helen was right; Bruno had comeback! Greta rushes to the window to let him in. Now all she has to do is follow the instructions Helen had given her and they could be together forever.  
\----------------------

South of Mobile, AL (Oct 29th 2007)

The first fingers of daylight were reaching over the horizon as Gemini sped along the highway, her 1969, 'Boss 429' making easy meat out of the tarmac miles. The dark refrains of Santana and Everlast’s 'Put your Lights on' blasting from her 'I-Pod'.

Gemini's face and hands are splattered with blood and she has demonic ash in her wild woman hair. Her spear roll lies open on the passenger seat; blood soaked iron spears lie soaking into an old copy of 'The Chicago Tribune' in the passenger foot well. The approaching daylight makes her eyelids feel like they are being weighed down by bags of sand. As she tries to blink the road back into focus she can almost smell the shampoo and feel the clean sheets she craves.

The cause of this weariness? Last nights monster killing spree; 'A Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves' that had taken place just South of Mobile. A deflated sigh escape from Gemini's dry lips. All she wants to focus on for the rest of the day is finding a motel where she can clean up her gear and herself and have some long over due snooze time.

Suddenly, the song on her 'I-Pod' begins to pop and crackle. This would freak out most 'I-Pod' owners but all it exacts from Gemini is a weary sigh because 'this' is one of the ways she finds out about hunts that need her attention. 

The sound from the 'I-Pod' dies altogether as the car radio crackles to life. The out of State signal is weak but audible and coming from some local station in the Wheeling area of West Virginia. The news anchor is telling the sad story of the death of Bruno Gunnerson. A local high school hero who had only recently returned to town after being missing for twenty years.

Just as suddenly as the radio signal had came in; it fades away again and the 'I-Pod' springs back to life. The new song that is beckoning for Gemini's attention causes her to wrinkle her pug nose at the cheesiness of it's opening bars. Then she settles in to let the song unfold it's story to her. Although the songs are never word for word accurate if Gemini focuses hard and reads between the lines, they always give her a clear indication of the parts that best describe what she is looking for.

 

“ The headlines read that a boy disappeared and everyone thinks he died...” 

“As she turns the volume down. He's getting smaller with the sound. It seems to pull him off the ground, toward the radio he's bound...”

( Angie Baby, Helen Reddy, 1974)

\-----------------------

Wheeling, WV (Oct 29th 2007)

The Winchester's trade mark black 'Impala' pulls to a halt in the parking lot of the 'Friendly Inn'. The afternoon sun highlights the fact she is covered from headlights to tail in a grimy sheen from the day on the road. First Sam and then Dean emerge from inside stretching out pretzel limbs. Locking the doors they head towards the main office of the motel.

“So here we are, in bum fuck nowhere!” proclaims Dean, a big grin on his lips a 'do you get it?' look in his eyes. Sam doesn't look the slightest bit amused at his brothers comment in fact his stare is pretty grim.

“ Dean, why do you always do that? ” Sam asks biting back his frustration. Dean looks confused and a little offended that Sam didn't get his joke.

“Do what? Boy, did you eat a whole box of cranky flakes this morning; what's up your ass?”

Sam rolls his eyes in frustration at his brother. Dean feels a slight anger rising from the pit of his stomach and for a split second considers slapping Sam upside the head. He couldn't stand it when his brother rolled his eyes at him. 

“Every time we go see a movie you home in on the most politically incorrect line and then spend the next two weeks trying to drop it into conversation.”  
Dean shakes his head at Sam like he is unable to understand why he is making such a big deal out of nothing.

“Come on Sammy, lighten up would you. It's a golden line! I'm telling you 'The Comebacks' is going to be a cult classic. I mean it's not 'Porkies 2' but it's up there.”

Sam looks down at Dean unconvinced. Dean continues undeterred from convincing him.

“ That Lawrence kid for instance, he is gonna go far! In fact if they made a movie of our life story; give him a few years he would make a great you!”  
Dean looks at his brother expectant that a bit of flattery might make him smile. Instead Sam pouts his lip like a teen girl about to cry.

“ He's three years older than me, Dean!”

“So!” Dean swats Sam's complaint away like a fly. Sam continues to pout.

“Anyway, I always imagined someone more like Zac Efron playing me.”  
With his piece said Sam marches off towards the motel office leaving a rarely stuck for words Dean flabbergasted.

For a moment Dean wants to shout some wise ass remark about Sam wanting Zac Efron, to play 'with' him. However it dies on his lips as he thinks about it for a minute. The idea running across the expressions of his face. Maybe Sam was right. Efron could swing it, after all they always pretty folks up in movies; they would just have to make him a lot taller.

“ OK you big blouse, if they got him some stilts Efron might swing it. More importantly, who would play me??”

Dean gives one of his 'you win some you lose some' smiles and shrugs as the only reply he gets is a sigh from the buffers on the motel's office door as it swings closed behind Sam.

Dean didn't have to think too hard to figure out what was bothering his brother; in fact he was pretty sure what was eating Sam was the same thing he was bending over backwards not to think about. The payment due date for the whole demon deal was starting to loom large over their horizon; casting a huge shadow like the 'scary ass demonic elephant' in the room.

Dean was trying with his every fibre to not mentally allow himself to go there. If he thought a split second too long about what lay ahead of him he would be done for and they may as well drag his ass there now. All Dean's focus was on Sammy's safety and as long as he had that he could hold the mind wolves at bay a little while longer. Beyond that he did not want to know. A day at a time was all he could manage.

Right now, all Dean wanted was some Winchester normalcy. The hunt, his Baby and being out on the road with his brother at his side. Even bickering over pointless crap was like medicine for his weary, condemned soul.

As he strolls in his sexy 'John Wayne leggy' way towards the door of the motel office. Dean spots a news-stand filled with copies of the local paper.  
There, smiling out from its front page is Bruno Gunnerson, gussied up in a retro tux. Some big haired hot blonde in a puffy, pink number on his arm.  
According to the tag line the picture had been taken in 1986. Scanning the image Dean let out a pensive sigh.

“ You poor bastard. What kind of hell have you in for the past twenty years?”  
\--------------------

Wheeling, WV (Nov 12th 1997)

Greta watches the rain drops race down her bedroom window. It was her twenty-eighth birthday and it was the worst birthday she had ever had. Helen had left the house that morning barely uttering a word after spending the whole of the previous night banging, clattering and repeating the same words in a language Greta didn't understand to the boxes of what she called her 'Otherworld Entities'.

Unbeknown to Greta these creatures were in fact tightly bound demons which had been given to Helen by Saul and the boxes were where they recharged their energy.

Greta couldn't be sure exactly how 'in the box' these creatures were as she lay in bed at night; her bed throw wrapped up around her ears for safety her face just peeking out from inside. Sometimes the shadows that passed her doorway seemed to be the feet of many; not just the footsteps of Helen and as she strained to hear through the thudding of her racing heart and the sound proofing of her duvet there seemed at times to be many whispered voices not just her Aunt's.

Greta hadn't minded much when the first box appeared in about 1984, it had been beautifully carved and sat on the shelf in Helen's room but by the time 1993, rolled around (round about the same time her parents stopped being her parents and moved to Buffalo without her) Helen had these boxed 'things' all over the house and not just in boxes anymore; there was even one in a green jewelled necklace Helen now always wore. A treasured gift from her boyfriend Saul. 

Greta neither liked or trusted Saul. He had finally been formally introduced into her life in late 1993, after her parents left. she didn't like the way his evil green eyes seemed to glow in the dark and she didn't like the way his appearance in their lives seemed to be changing Helen. Something about him set off every 'stranger danger' instinct Greta had ever been taught.

Helen was never cruel to Greta but something was definitely different about her Aunt. She, seemed to have no warmth anymore, she would smile and talk like nothing was different but the smile no longer reached her eyes; the things that had been important to her just weren't anymore. 

Today for instance; Helen forgetting Greta's birthday. The 'old' Helen, would never have forgotten; she would have made it a huge celebration with cake and presents and lots of fun. All 'new' Helen had mentioned that morning (as she flung a few things into a bag) was that she was going on a last minute overnight business trip. 

This seemed odd to Greta. Helen had started her own fairly successful little store in the late 80's where she sold records, movies, books and other cool nik naks that might appeal to teens looking for something to make them individual or those who preferred a bit of quirk in their style. She also did a side-line in 'Witchcraft' and 'Spiritualism' which she said was really popular with teens nowadays but it wasn't the norm for her to take sudden overnight business trips. This was the first time Greta had ever been left home alone overnight. At least she hoped she was home alone. 

Greta lifts her well worn copy of 'Robbie Robertson' off the shelf, pulling the disc from it's sleeve, she places it gently on the turntable; carefully setting the needle down on the opening of side two. 

The music crackles into life from the stereo's speakers and as it does Bruno also crackles into life perched on the chair in the corner of Greta's room. His face lights up at the sight of Greta; tears of relief well in her eyes at the sight of him. In two strides of his long limbs Bruno has Greta enveloped in the warmth of his embrace.

Although he still looks like his seventeen year-old self. Bruno was now a much paler and slightly worn out version. Although Greta loved him so much she never seemed to notice or didn't want to. Bruno has been bound to the record for over ten-years but he doesn't even realise how long it has been; he has no concept of time any more. All he has left to measure by are agony and ecstasy. Ecstasy being moments like this, here with Greta and usually lasting the length of the B-side of this long play record. Agony being the place he goes when he is away from her. 

When the last song ends and the turntable grinds to a halt; Bruno vanishes back into darkness. To a place of sheer torture where he feels the agony of what seems like hot screws being wound into his soul, then he feels his 'life force' start to drip from his spirit and the scalding of fiery tongues branding him as they lap up the dwindling essence of his 'Spiritus Vitae'. This soul sucking process is repeated over and over and no physical pain he has encountered can begin to match its torturous agony.

Yet every time he materialises into the light of Greta's room he feels almost whole again and it makes the torture almost bearable.

Later that day while Greta and Bruno keep each other company in Wheeling. Somewhere in the State of Texas, police and paramedics will be called to one of the grizzliest traffic accidents any of them have ever witnessed. 

A Caucasian male in his late thirties by the name of Oliver Kearns has been speared through the pelvis by a stake of lumber which has fallen from the rear of a hard breaking truck. He does not die instantly. It will take a good twenty minutes for them to be able to remove him from the wreckage and he won't take his final breath until they lay him out on the stretcher. The departure of his final breath will leave one remnant of his former life; his face frozen in a twist of horror. His eyes and mouth will be left wide in terror like Edvard Munch's 'The Scream'.

His seven-year old son Eric, who is passenger in the car will escape with only cuts and bruises. Paramedics will take him straight to the ambulance and turn the radio up loud, hoping to protect the little boy from the sound of his father's agonising screams. 

The paramedics who attend to Oliver will never forget the terrible fear in his voice as he calls out to a woman called 'Helen' that no one can see; begging her forgiveness and pleading that she not let 'Green Eyes' take him. The paramedics will try to calm him; as much to end their distress at his agonised wails as his own but it will be futile. Eric, soon to be an orphan will be shipped off to an Aunt in Wheeling he has never met. The only family he has left.  
\---------------------

Wheeling, WV (Oct 29th 2007)

Dean is on the phone to Bobby. Sam is where he will be found at some point on most Winchester missions; sitting at the motel room's communal table a look of intense concentration creasing the brow of his otherwise baby face. He has been scanning the internet for what seems like hours. So far not finding a single clue or definite lead as to what they could be dealing with. Although, he did discover a new website on his browser called 'Big Busted Nordic Beauties.com', which at least proved Dean was diverse as well as perverse.

Sam found this discovery an unusual comfort because since they left Mobile his brother had been amazingly quiet on the whole 'Girls,Girls,Girls' front which wasn't like him at all. Dean says his goodbyes to Bobby and hangs up the call.

“OK! Sammy boy..”, Dean proclaims. Sam puzzles to himself why Dean always proclaims things at him like he is some 'big shot' hero on a TV show.  
Dean, too impatient to wait for a reply ploughs on with relaying his news while Sam stares off distracted like he is puzzling something in that massive cranium of his.

“ According to Bobby's hunter buddy Floyd; you remember Floyd? He's one crazy looking son of a bitch but man, can he create some kick ass weapons out of next to nothing. Old Floyd! He's like a one man A-Team.” Dean smiles briefly and wistfully at memories of Floyd and his insane yet genius creations, then turns his attention back to an as yet unresponsive Sam.

“Sam!”

“Huh!” Sam says coming out of his daze. He had stopped thinking about 'TV' Dean' about two minutes previous when a particularly interesting pop-up from the 'Nordic Beauties' had caught his eye.

“What are you looking at?” Dean asks making his way over to look at Sam's laptop a slight notion that he already knows the answer. Sam was really bad at enjoying the pornographic pleasures in life. They always left him slightly haunted and guilty looking and red in the face. Kind of like the look he has right now. Dean feels a swell of pride that his little bro is growing up but there are more important matters at hand.

“Nothing!” Sam says far too fast; a guilty panic in his eyes. He quickly clicks off the browser just as Dean arrives at his side. Dean bites his lip trying to suppress a smile; then he gives a manly 'change the subject' cough and sits down opposite his brother watching Sam's face as he tries to look anywhere but at him. 

“So, anyway back to Floyd.” Dean says putting his feet up on the table.

“Oh yeah, eh! Floyd; wh, what did he say??” Sam stammers looking Dean in the face for the first time in about eight minutes, glad the moment has passed.

“ Floyd told Bobby, that apparently some hunter chick; who is also trailing the 'Gunnerson' case is heading into town and she has some theory on what we may be dealing with. Apparently she has some 'special skill' that means she is pretty insightful when it comes to sussing out hunts. Bobby puts a lot of stock in the musing of 'crazy' old Floyd so he recommended we meet her .”

Sam nods taking it all in.

“ And we put a lot of stock in Bobby so you agreed.?”

“Exactly Sammy. Although I'm not really convinced its not all bullshit but were kind of staring down the barrel of a dead end when it comes to our current  
options thanks to old Bruno, well not as old as he should have been Bruno, kicking it before we could get to him.”

“ Very true.” Sam agrees a look of worn out frustration pursing his lips.

“ So....What have we got so far 'tech' boy?”

Ignoring Dean's gibe, Sam opens the file in his download folder where he has stored all possible info on Bruno and the case.

“ OK! From the autopsy report and checking out his body Bruno had all the signs that he was being fed on by something. He basically turned into a husk overnight, there are no outer markings and It can't be Succubus because the time frame for his disappearance was far too long; they would have sucked him dry in days not decades....” Dean nods in agreement with Sam's conclusion.

“Shtriga?” Asks Sam. Dean shakes his head.

“ Same thing; too long a time frame and it doesn't explain how he stayed seventeen for nearly twenty years then shrivelled on death. Man! His corpse was a nasty sight...” Dean says, shivering with displeasure at the memory.

“... Poor dude looked like a well worn saddle bag, all shrivelled and leathery; gives me the heebs just thinking bout it.” Sam nods agreement a look of distaste on his face. Then shaking off the image gets back to his facts.

“ OK, next line of thought was why? Which I still haven't found but I did notice when I looked into Bruno's family his mom seems to have had an extremely high amount of tragedy for one woman. Well one 'normal' not in the hunting business type woman anyway.”

Dean nods. “Not to mention one very odd reappearance; what kind of tragedy?”

“ Well, about ten years after Bruno's disappearance His mom's younger brother was impaled in a pretty nasty car accident...” Sam hand's Dean print outs of the articles and photo's on Oliver's cause of death. Dean flicks through them looking like he might dry heave when he reaches the description and photo of Oliver's injuries. 

Both brothers notice straight away the 'ten year' significance and the possibility of a 'Crossroads' demon deal but neither mention it. No need to poke at the 'evil elephant' and besides none of the other criteria matches.

“Then last year her, husband who had really struggled after the loss of Bruno, died from liver failure...”

“Hold on what about this kid? Eric, what became of him?”

“I was just about to get to that part; after the accident in Texas he ended up here. He is the only remaining family Alieen Gunnerson has, according to town talk she and Eric live on the outskirts of town now, don't mix much with the rest of the locals.”

“ So what, has someone been pickin' a bone with Aileen Gunnerson?” Dean asks. Sam considers the possibility.

“ Could be but then why all the males in her family why not just take her out?”  
Dean takes his feet of the table and rises from his chair standing with his hands resting on the back of it as he ponders what they know.

“ OK so Eric will be seventeen; the same age Bruno was when he disappeared. Oliver was killed in the tenth year of Bruno's disappearance. Twenty years, almost to the day he went missing: Bruno shows back up and dies. The father just sounds like a tragic end of a grieving man and doesn't really feel like he fits our kind of case but the other two feel more like they might? There is a pattern here somewhere, Sammy. A pattern, that we just can't quite see yet....”

Dean says, pacing the length of the room trying to move the pieces together in his head. Sam watches him thinking about Bruno's dad and how if it wasn't for his 'hell deal' looming he too one day might have had to watch Dean die from liver failure. Dean stops dead and looks at Sam a concerned look on his face. 

“ I don't know why Sammy but I just have this gut feeling that this show ain't over. We're going to have to watch out for this Eric kid. The two suspect deaths of the three seem to be more Kearns related than Gunnerson. I mean sure Bruno was Gunnerson but Alieen is either the cause or the tie in this scenario and she and Oliver are both Kearns by name and so is Eric.” 

Sam nods emphatically.

“ Right and maternally so is Bruno, something is going on in that line of the family but what? A curse?”

“ I'm not sure the only pattern in the deaths are the deaths themselves so not exactly 'family curse' like but some 'son of a bitch', somewhere is definitely grinding an axe but who and why?...” Dean says turning his back to Sam and crossing to the dresser to pick up his shower stuff; turning back he says.

“I think Bobby is right, we need to meet this chick with the weird 'astrological' name to see if she has any 'Intel' on the what or why of Bruno's disappearance? Cause without that kind of info we could just be waiting with our 'junk' in our hands hoping Eric doesn't end up another corpse like piece in what is shaping up to be a pretty nasty jigsaw....” Sam pulls one of his 'you could be right faces' and nods.

“I'm going to grab a shower; can you go grab us some food?....”

“Sure.” Sam says closing down the laptop, fishing the car keys out of the floral bowl on the table and grabbing his jacket.”

“ Great! Then we'll head out to the bar where were to meet Taurus, Venus, Aurora 'boring' Alice. Whatever her hippy highnesses name is?.” Sam shakes his head smiling at Dean's ever dependent lack of decorum as he heads for the door.

“So, what shall I get you to eat, burger with a side of burger?”  
Sam shouts to Dean over the sound of the running shower.

“ I knew there was a reason you were my favourite brother.” Dean shouts back from the bathroom. Then his dirty socks come sailing through the gap in the bathroom doorway. They have been rolled into a ball and make a direct hit of their target. The back of Sam's head. This makes Sam jump in surprise. He is about to shout at Dean but Dean's voice cuts in first.

“ Oh and Sammy; don't forget the pie.”

Sam heads out the door, shaking his head at how predictable Dean is. Thinking to himself 'moron, I'm his only brother; no one else would put up with him.' Then his smile fades and sadness returns to dance at the corners of his eyes as he wonders how he is going to make it without Dean? 

Praying had never really been the 'Winchester' way but Sam (as usual at odds with the family line) did it everyday and as he gets into the 'Impala', he find himself making a silent plea to God, to spare his brother.

\---------------------

Wheeling, WV (Oct 23rd 2007)

Business had been swift for a Tuesday afternoon. This has been good for Helen and not just economically. It has also helped her keep her mind off the havoc Saul's arrival that night is playing on her thoughts. Even if her body is proving harder to distract.

Now her work day has hit a sudden lull Helen is struggling badly not to go off on a lust filled mind tangent inspired by her bodies ache for Saul's touch. The bell above the shop door 'chimes' indicating the arrival of a new customer. Helen lets a breath escape her pursed lips.

“Saved by the bell ” she mumbles to her self wistfully. 

It was always the same for her when she knew Saul was visiting and the closer his arrival got the worse the need got; like some kind of lust sickness that didn't dissipate until he laid his hands on her. Saul insisted this intense connection was totally normal especially since they had began exploring the 'Thelema' tradition of 'Sex Magick'. Oh, the things she had done over the years just to feel that man's touch; for the release of him finally making love to her. 

If Saul was a drug, Helen was a time hardened Junkie. She would stop at nothing for a taste of him a craving that in the past had only ever been matched by her hunger for revenge on Oliver. Helen had used 'Magick' for some down right evil purposes at Saul's insistence he just always seemed to logic away the wrong in her actions; made it all justified in her mind and in the beginning whenever he struggled to convince her; Greta would always become the topic of conversation and that would jump start Helen's dedication to Saul's latest cause. 

Saul was an amazingly gifted practitioner of the craft and he had taken Helen under his wing and taught her a trick or two helping her fill the gaps (and much more) in her knowledge that had been left after Beatrice's death and through the years they had mutually got what they wanted from their little arrangement. 

Helen wanted Bruno punished and to give Greta a reason to smile and Saul had needed an energy source for his demon entities to feed on so Bruno was spellbound to Greta's favourite record to fill the roles of both 'food' and 'friend'.

Helen's lust for Oliver's demise also became a mutual arrangement. Saul needed a condemned human soul and Helen wanted Oliver to suffer beyond the human pain threshold so together they orchestrated his death. 

Helen danced naked in the rain that night feeling an intense power flow through her she never dreamed possible . She lifted her arms to the sky all weakness and fear gone. In succeeding in her revenge against Oliver she had turned a corner; no longer hemmed in by human frailty. Her only 'true' pursuit now was how to increase this immense power she felt; a hunger that now eclipsed 'even' her need for 'vengeance' but not her need for Saul. 

As for the three step 'revenge' plan; only Eric was left outstanding. Before Oliver's grizzly demise Helen had questioned her urge to hurt Eric but Saul had insisted she follow though with the plan. What if the 'acorn' fell near the tree? Saul had urged, what if Eric hurt a girl the way his father hurt Greta?  
Now, all Helen cared about killing Eric was how big a power charge she would get off it.

Helen makes her way from the back of the store to the counter to find out who her new customer is. Eric is safe for another day but when the time is right she will summon him to Clay Avenue just as she had Bruno. Then whatever she and Saul have planned will become Eric's fate. Helen licks her dry lips in anticipation.  
\--------------------

Wheeling,WV (Oct 29th 2007)

Sam and Dean cruise along the country back road to the bar. Sam stares out his window into the almost complete darkness of countryside. Dean is focused on the road ahead, lightly tapping the wheel when a favourite part of the song emanating from the cassette player comes on. He looks over at Sam.

“ Hey Sammy, even if Venus's 'talents' do turn out to be a 'crock' this might not be a totally wasted trip...” Sam looks at Dean waiting for the punchline not eager to see where his brother is going with his latest 'stream of consciousness'. 

“She's a hippie chick right? Their pretty free and easy...”Sam nods warily.

“ Maybe if you ask nicely she might let you 'bang her gong'. if you get my drift?” Sam shakes his head at Dean and looks back out into the darkness.

“ Oh come on man! It would do you a world of good; take the knots out of those giant shoulders of yours. I swear your getting down right 'Incredible Hulkesque' of late. Oh! She'll maybe even try some of that 'Tiramisu' stuff on you?” Sam looks back at Dean; he is now completely at a loss as to what his brother is getting at.

“ Why would she want to make me Italian dessert? How is that hippie, Dean?”

“ Dessert? No Sammy, Some of those 'kinky' Indian moves. Hippies are into all that philosophy and world cultures shit, oh and Yoga! I bet you can bend her every which way.” Dean grins, slapping a bemused Sam on the shoulder in excitement.

“ Dean, I think you are talking about 'The Kama Sutra'?” Sam point's out raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“ Does it involve having sex in all sorts of weird positions?” Sam nods a bemused smile playing on his lips. 

“Then your right oh wise one, I am.” Sam turns to face the window resisting the urge to laugh at Dean and his crazy plans when something dawns on him.

“ Hold on a minute, why me? I don't recall any tales of you getting laid lately.”

Dean is blinded by a moment of panic; not sure how to answer without giving anything away about mystery night in Mobile. Sam thought he had gone for breakfast and that's all he had to know. If his brother found out he had been with a 'fat chick', better still was hoodwinked by and slightly hung up on a 'fat chick' he would never live it down. Not after all the 'hefty girl' gibes he had made over the years at Sam's expense. 

On the night in question Dean had had such a mind blowing time he would have happily told the world about his well rounded conquest; he was practically drunk on the heat and lust but in the cold light and drive of shame of the following morning he had found himself feeling less chatty. 

If Dean was honest he was sort of 'PMS-ing' about the whole affair. 'P. Benatar' (or whatever her real name was) had left him feeling vulnerable; an emotion that Dean liked to keep deeply buried. The fact he could not remember how the night got started only added insult to injury and that loss of control just pissed him off.

Thankfully for Dean, he doesn't get a chance to answer when suddenly the brothers hear the distant revving of an engine. Which quickly becomes the nearby revving of an engine as the lights of a fast approaching car reflect off the interior mirror into their faces; causing Dean to squint. 

The 'Impala' is cruising along at the guts of eighty-miles an hour so whoever is approaching is well and truly over the speed limit.

Sam and Dean can hear 'very loud' and 'very heavy' rock music (in the form of the driving drums of Deep Purple's 'Fireball') fleetingly assault their ears as the car passes them in a flash. Sam slaps Dean on the shoulder.

“Holy hell Dean, what a maniac!” Dean peers out the window at the vapour of the swiftly disappearing vehicle.

“Holy hell, indeed Sammy; I think we have just been blown off by a 'Boss 429'”. The brothers sit silent momentarily stunned. Dean is the first to break the silence.

“Son of Bitch! I bet that feels good!”

As they round the bend; 'The Farmhouse Bar' comes into view. Minutes later when Dean pulls the 'Impala' into a space in the bar's parking lot; there in front of them at the far side of the lot sits the '429' with its lights on and the driver still inside.

As they climb out of the 'Impala' the lights and engine on the 'Boss' die off and the driver's door opens. Sam and Dean stroll over curious to get a closer  
look at this chunk of automotive history. Whoever this speedy son of a bitch was give him his dues thought Dean; he keeps his girl in good shape. Dean shouts over to the as yet unseen driver.

“Hey Mario Andretti, nice wheels! What are you doing with a beast like this out on the road; its a collector's wet dream.” 

“Dario Franchitti, if you don't mind and it was a Twenty-first birthday gift from some very close, almost 'sister' like friends; who believe a woman should always have a top notch chariot.”

The Winchesters stop in their tracks; back footed by the reply being given in what was a very female and distinctly Scottish voice. Dean's body breaks into a cold sweat as a very curvy, oddly familiar, female figure climbs out of the car and into the half-light of the bar's neon sign. 

Dean tries to wrack his brain to see if he should have known she was Scottish? He draws a total blank. Yet there she stands; 'the chick from Mobile'. A hand on her well curved hip, a smirk on her face and apparently a 'Scots' tongue in her mouth.

Dean, didn't know whether he wanted to hit her, kiss her or pin her down and re-enact what had gone on between them; only this time on his terms!  
Although, she didn't exactly strike him as the type of girl who would be pinned easily; unless she chose to be. Dean begins to recount the times her 'Scots' tongue had been in 'his' mouth and all the ways she had let him 'pin her'. Not to mention the several times she had 'pinned him' over the course of their night in Mobile.

“Pat?”

Both Sam and Gemini look at Dean quizzically. Clearing his throat, Dean lowers his voice about three octaves and pretends not to notice the awkward moment.

“That's some set of wheels you have there Missy!” Sam looks at Dean slightly embarrassed for him and wondering why he has come over all 'Old Timer'?

“ Really Dean, Missy??” Sam half mouths at his brother.

“Shut it, Sam ! She's a woman isn't she?” Dean replies from the side of his mouth; trying to play it cool and just managing to pass by the skin of his teeth.

A smile plays at the corner of Gemini's lips, she tries to keep it pinned in as she listens to their exchange. One thing she is pretty sure of by the look on his face; Dean remembers her. she is just going to have to ride the situation out till she sees how much he wants to discuss what he remembers; more of which he will have experienced than she did. 

This wasn't the first time she had had the awkward 'haven't I seen much more of you somewhere before' meeting. However this was the first time she had felt a little flash of shyness glow her cheeks and the lustful urge for re-enactment.

“Dean, did you say?” Gemini asks Sam. Sam nods and Dean gives his baby brother a look that signifies 'Well done, Ass -hat! She heard you!'

“ You could be the guys I'm here to meet.. are you Sam?”

“ Yep, I sure am, Hi.” Sam nods sticking out his hand.

Sam and Gemini exchange big dimpled smiles. Sam, was exactly as sweet and polite as she imagined he would be. Gemini, grabs Sam's hand and gives it a firm but friendly shake. “I'm Gemini, Gemini Jones.


	2. Vessels of Intent Part 2 'The Bruno Gunnerson Hunt' Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See the summary for 'Vessels of Intent' Part 2 'The Bruno Gunnerson Hunt' Chapter 1 Originally posted on 'Live Journal' between 2013 and 2014. 2nd Part of the 3 part 'Vessels of Intent' series. Part 3 " Ae Fond Kiss... And then we sever some Supernatural Sons of Bitches" to follow. Hope you enjoy reading. Thank you if you do. Comments much appreciated.

The Farmhouse Bar Wheeling, WV (Oct 29th 2007)

'The Farmhouse' is busy but not over crowded when they go inside. Gemini and Sam make a beeline for a free table near the Jukebox. Dean insists on going to the bar to get the drinks, one for each of them and two double shots and a beer for him. If there was ever a time Dean needed a drink to get through a situation that time is now. 

As he walks over to the bar a group of rowdy males at a table to his left catch his attention. Specifically the one in the pale green shirt who seems to be watching Sam and Gemini with great interest. Dean recognises him as a fellow hunter he had come across a few times in the past; a guy about Bobby's age. His name is Billy Hagan. 

Billy's gaze leaves the table, where Sam is smiling at something Gemini has just said and he seems to be scanning the room. Dean, presumes (correctly) that Billy is looking for him. Catching his gaze Billy gives Dean a courteous nod and then heads over to the bar to chat.

“Dean Winchester; As I live and breath. I saw young Sam over there with none other than Miss Gemini Jones and I thought, hold up there Billy. There is something wrong with this picture. You don't usually see 'Sundance' without 'Butch' and you certainly don't expect to see him paired up with 'Calamity Jane', if you know what I mean?” 

Dean nods.

“Hey Billy, How you been? Dean says smiling at the older man and firmly shaking his hand curious about what it is Billy seems to know about Gemini.

“ Not too bad boy. Although I'm getting kinda creeky and old for this hunting game.”

“ Surely not Billy! The day guys like us stop hunting is the day we die, right?”  
Dean's drinks arrive and he takes a swig of his first shot. Billy nods in agreement. Dean blinks down the burn of the liquor letting out a sharp breath.

“ You in town on a hunt Billy..? 

Billy shakes his head.

“Naw son! Just busted us a Vamps nest over in Sistersville and thought we would stop in here for old times sake. Back in the day this used to be a regular hunters haunt called 'The Stake House', not much has changed in the last twenty years except the name...” Billy says looking fondly around the old bar which has seen better days.

“I take it you boys are also having a night off when young Sam has hooked up with Miss Gemini?..”   
Billy points over to the table where Sam and Gemini seem to be engrossed in conversation. Dean, looks over his shoulder at the pair briefly; not particularly happy at how comfortable Gemini and Sam seem to be getting with each other. Turning back he doesn't let on to Billy giving him one of his charming smiles, before taking a swig of his beer.

“Hope he has his hat strapped on? Not to cast aspersions; you understand but from what I hear she's two handfuls of fun that one. You need a tiger in your tank, if you know what I mean?”

Trying not to choke on his beer in surprise; Dean plays it cool and makes a face that basically says 'really'.

“ Nah! Billy were strictly here on business. We actually just met her outside, she's hooking up with us on a hunt in town. You maybe heard about it; Bruno Gunnerson?” 

Billy shakes his head.

“Can't say that I have?”

Dean sucks back his second shot and indicates for two more trying to brace himself for a question he might not really want the answer too.

“So what you're saying is; Gemini is well known for knowing her way round certain 'male parts'? Dean says like he is merely enquiring.  
Billy clears his throat and turns to rest his elbows on the bar mirroring Dean's pose their heads dipped in a conspiratory fashion. Billy nods his head.

“ Yep, She sure does.” 

Dean mirrors Billy's own secretive tone. Praying Billy's answer will be 'no'. 

“You ever 'hook up' with her yourself?”

“Heck no son!!” Billy almost shouts in surprise at Dean's question. Then lowers his tone back to the discussion's previous level. 

“No way could I ever, I'm old enough to be that little girl's daddy but I do know plenty hunters that have. Some refer to her as 'The Hunters Helper' if you know what I mean? She's a bit of a 'stress relief specialist'...” 

Dean gives Billy an even look and nods; then he looks away under the pre-text of sipping his beer, instead he makes a face like he might be sick at the thought.

“Don't take me wrong now though Dean,'that' ain't all there is to her. You boys are lucky to have her on your team. She's as good on the hunt as she is   
on the hunter; if you take my meaning? Young Gemini has a freakish gift when it comes to finding and sussing out the supernatural.”

Dean, looks over at the table; Sam looks over and smiles and gives a nod to Billy. Gemini is just walking back from the Jukebox, purse in hand. She catches Sam's attention and they continue chatting engrossed in each other. 

A young red headed guy from Billy's group shouts him back to the table. He and Dean say their goodbyes and Dean grabs the drinks and heads towards Sam and Gemini trying to ignore the little pinch of jealousy he feels as he tries to pretend he isn't a little disappointed to be just another 'notch' on the bed post of 'The Hunters Helper'. Dean reaches their table just as Gemini is filling Sam in about the hunt in Mobile. 

“Seriously!!” says Sam his face a picture of disbelief.

“ Hand on heart Samson. I came here from a 'Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves', near Mobile. It was a total blood bath; all because some young hitcher couldn't keep it in his pants in 1928.” Dean tries to find a point to enter into the conversation as slickly as he normally would but not a single word Gemini had just said made a lick of sense to him? 

“ Come again?” Dean asks as he distributes the drinks, a look of extreme puzzlement on his face.

“ You're never going to believe this Dean, Gemini has a freaky ability for finding hunts. She gets her information from song lyrics.” Sam says giving Dean a surprised look that says Floyd wasn't so 'crazy' after all.

“ Bullshit.” Dean replies sitting himself down in a spare chair. Not even a hint of belief on his face. Dean has decided to be stubborn about his disbelief whether he disbelieves Gemini's gift or not; he is pissed and he is digging his heels in. He feels snubbed like she used him for one night, he fears she might move on to Sam and he is mad at himself most of all because he still wants her. 

“Oh Yeah hard man. You obviously have never encountered 'The Wichita Lineman'.” Gemini counters giving him a kind smile. She can tell from the way Dean is slouched in his chair, eye-balling her that, 'yes' he was pissed about Mobile and he wasn't going to make this an easy conversation for her.

“Glen Campbell? Did you get his autograph ?” retorted Dean in a tone that was cool yet sarcastic in equal measure.

“ No, not Glen Campbell in person; Smart Arse!” 

Sam smiles, Dean wasn't going to out smart mouth Gemini with any kind of ease, this could get interesting for his brother. 

“Anyway..., Gemini continued. "Glen didn't write 'Wichita Lineman'. Jimmy Webb did and it is thanks to the timely playing of 'his' song that in 2000, I was able to track down and gank a vengeful drifter ghost in Wichita....”  
\------------------------

The Wichita Lineman

Earl Wilson Rafferty a native of Wichita, Kansas was the most dedicated lineman his County bosses had ever seen. In fact he dedicated so much time to his 'lineman' gig that in 1960, his lonely wife ran off with his best friend. This turn of events drove old Earl to literally 'hang' himself out on the line on what would have been their anniversary.   
Ten years later (which happened to be the length of their marriage) on the eve of the anniversary of Earl's death a male fitting the description of Earl was seen walking the highway. He reappeared the following night only this time in the back seat of Lorelai Whyte's car. 

Lorelai, was a pretty blonde (very similar in looks to Earl's wife) who was making her way home alone from work. She must have also reminded Earl of his 'cheating' wife because when the sheriff removed Lorelai's body from the remains of her smashed up car, neither he or the coroner could understand why the crash had left Lorelai with a perfect ring burnt round her throat as though she had been choked by a 'live' electric cable. 

Ten years later in 1980, dental assistant Annie Seawell met the same grizzly death. As did Cathy Proctor in 1990, All three vic's driving home alone on the anniversary of Earls death, all had blonde hair and all three were left with what the coroner described as the markings of 'electrified strangulation'

Gemini Jones was driving the very same highway on the pre-anniversary night of Earl's death in 2000 when her 'I-Pod' jumped songs to 'The Wichita Lineman' just as she spotted a lone male figure walking along side the highway in the dark. The way he was walking was what drew Gemini's attention. He appeared to be dragging his limbs as though they were heavy or numb like a zombie or a man with a bad case of 'pins and needles' in his feet from a lack of circulation. When she had passed him her 'I-Pod' jumped back to it's previous song and glancing in her rear view mirror Gemini noticed the man was gone.

Stopping in at the local diner that night Gemini met Lucy Proctor, the younger sister of Cathy who had been killed ten years previous. Gemini tells Lucy she is touring America doing research for a book on the phenomenon of 'Drifter Ghosts', The mysterious figures rumoured to haunt America's highways. Lucy tells Gemini about 'Earl' and how she believes he killed her sister and two other women by strangling them with the same wire on which he hung himself. Seeing that Lucy believes in the supernatural. Gemini comes clean with Lucy about really being a hunter and together they come up with a plan to end Earl's loop of death.  
\----------------------

Sam nods as Gemini speaks; listening intently to what she is saying. Dean is playing total disinterest by picking intently at the corner of the label of his beer bottle instead.

"So the following night (after a bit more investigation into Earl's background) I drove the highway in a blonde wig to grab old Earl's attention, so he would pick me and sure enough he did. Earl appeared in the back seat sparking wires in hand; the sight of his seared and scared face in my rear view making my heart skip a beat as though he had shocked me already....”

“Awesome!” says Sam engrossed; Dean looks at him slightly irked that Sam has stolen his line. Sam feels Dean's eyes on him and turns to catch his brother's incriminating gaze.

“What?” Sam says unsure what Dean's problem is. Dean just shakes his head in disgust and takes a swig of beer to hide his pout. Gemini goes on with the story. 

“ Little did Earl know, that up on the embankment stood Lucy; ready and willing to roast his bones on my signal. I signalled and that was the end of Earl.”

“ Goodbye Earl. Good times!” Dean says sarcastically rolling his eyes and taking another swig of beer but Gemini was fit for him.

“ Very good Dean. Nice 'Dixie Chicks' reference but I do believe 'your' anthem is on next”

The jukebox trips over on to the next track and Gram Parson's 'Big Mouth Blues' comes on. Gemini leans forward and pats Dean on the hand giving him a sarcastic but good natured smile back. Sam tries to hide a smile. Not really familiar with the song and still tingling from Gemini's touch. Dean tries to act cool pretending he gets the joke.

“ I'm sure you pair must have experienced that effect when EMF interrupts your radio frequency? Well it's like that. Music is just like any other universal vessel. Like money, hunger or the human body it can become filled by spirit energy which then dictates what it communicates. Like for example: 'The Human Body' is a neutral physical vessel. It's the intent of the spirit in control of the 'vessel' that makes it's use good or evil. The vessel of hunger can be driven by a need for greed or lust or simply to achieve a positive goal. I just have a gift for reading the messages that 'spirit energy' communicates into songs. Weird I know but that's how it is with me... “

“So this works for you every time?” Sam asks.

“ One-hundred percent so far, from “Catatonia's 'I am the Mob', which led me to my first hunt State-side back in Chicago in 1999. It was also a 'revenge spirit', this time a disgruntled 'Gangsters Moll'. To right here right now. It doesn't tell me word for word but gives me enough to get going on.”

“ There must be plenty of 'supernatural' goings on in the UK; in Scotland alone, so what brought you to the States?”

“My mum. Believe it or not she was a hunter in the body and circumstance of an Eastern Seaboard Socialite; who came to University in Glasgow following a hunt. There she met and fell in love with my 'brainiac' non-hunter father. They got married. She had me and three weeks later a demon drowned her in the bath. Dad took me back to his home town in the middle of...”

“Bum fuck Nowhere?” Dean chimes in a big grin on his face.

Sam looks at Dean and shakes his head in exasperation. Dean shrugs and grins at him. Gemini laughs.

“ You could say that Dean, more like 'Bum fuck Nowhere' On-Sea....”

Dean warms a little to Gemini impressed she could take a joke. Dean gives Sam a triumphant grin to which Sam roles his eyes.

“Where as the chubby daughter of the town eccentric, who's wife killed herself I was far from socially acceptable so I spent my time at home, alone, obsessed with music it's history and trivia.”

Sam feels a kin in Gemini and kind of sorry for her knowing what it's like to grow up feeling like you don't fit in. She had felt like a 'freak', just like he had. Only his hiding place had been supernatural lore.

“ Surely everyone loves some form of music? I would have thought that kind of knowledge would have made you lots of friends.” Dean says genuinely confused.

“ I can see where your coming from Deano, but its really hard to talk 'A.O.R' and 'Who is the better Paul Rodgers band; Bad Company or Free?' when your classmates only musical reference points are Kylie and Jason, Bros or New Kids on the Block.” 

Dean nods; making a face that says he recognises Gemini is making a fair point.

“ So if your mom died when you were a little kid how did you end up in the hunting business?” Sam asks.

“I didn't know about our family hunting history till I was thirteen and my dad left me with some female hunters he knew so they could train me up in the business. My mum had warned him that if I wasn't prepared to go willingly into the life it would come looking for me; probably in my teens. How did you two get started?” Gemini asks knowing the answer but asking anyway to keep up her cover.

“ Kind of similar story I suppose..” replies Dean.

“ a demon got our mom and our dad went out for revenge sinking further into the life and taking us with him.” 

Gemini nods in understanding.

“Where is your dad now?” she asks once again knowing the answer.

“He died after we got in a bad car accident”. Sam replies hanging his head a little, overwhelmed because his sadness at losing John is still pretty raw. Gemini looks into his eyes; sympathy written all over her face. She reaches across the table to stroke Sam's hand. 

Dean, sitting silently sipping his beer is once again stung by a scorpion's tail of jealousy not just at the sight of Gemini getting so cosy with his brother but also because he too is still raw with grief over losing John but no one was reaching out to comfort him because he had been taught young to keep his 'game face' on by the man he was now struggling to grieve. So Dean does what Dean does best when emotionally cornered and decides it is time to intervene by picking a fight. 

“ Just to answer your question, 'Bad Company'. Hands down.”

Sam and Gemini turn to look at him momentarily confused then Gemini catches his meaning. Dean is pleased to see his plan has worked as Gemini pulls her hand back over to her side of the table.

“Now don't get me wrong Deano, 'Bad Company' were a great band. They did some fantastic! tunes but they were missing one key ingredient that 'Free' had; Kossoff.”

Sam looks at his brother. Dean is reclining in his chair, beer in hand looking like he is the most 'laid back' guy in the room but something in his tone spells danger. Sam knew his brother too well; this was Dean's 'I'm the only Rooster in the hen house' stance. A stance he had taken often, usually ending with Sam having to back him up in some kind of brawl; when the guy on the other end took exception to the aggressive tone and threatening attitude that any moment now will cloud Dean's expression. Sam had seen this side of Dean come out over a woman before but never with one.

Sam knows if he doesn't change the conversation soon, Dean's next move will be to lean forward to the table and begin (quietly at first) arguing with Gemini; more for the sake of argument than out of knowledge of 'Free'. Sam couldn't put his finger on the why but something about Gemini's presence just seemed to have got his brother all out of joint. 

“OK, lets get down to business then shall we? ” Sam says giving Dean a stern look. Trying to break the moment.

Almost like it is on queue 'Angie Baby' comes on the Jukebox. The whole testosterone filled bar falls silent; totally taken a back by the 'chick tune' on the jukebox and then everyone goes back to business.

“This is the song!” Gemini says. Dean's obvious desire to pick a fight already forgotten as she focuses her attention on the lyrics. Sam and Gemini listen carefully and although Dean tries to pretend he isn't listening. When the song ends he is the first to speak.

“ So what you're saying is that some 'crazy bitch' called Angie, had Bruno trapped in her radio for twenty years as a love slave because he was 'perving' on her ?? Awesome!.”

Gemini make a hand gesture and face that says Dean is half right. Completely ignoring his intended sarcasm.

“It's never exact but I do believe Bruno was trapped in some form of music. When Alan O'Day originally wrote the song; 'Angie' (which probably isn't the name of the girl in Bruno's version) wasn't a 'Crazy Girl' she was a girl with a mental or social impairment that forced her parents to remove her from school. Who spent the majority of her time at home, listening to music.”

“Sound like anyone at this table?...” Quips Dean, causing Sam to give him a deadly stare.

“Just saying.” Dean says shrugging his shoulders his face never letting on that he was slightly intimidated by his little brother's look of menace.

“ Ha,Ha funny guy but you appear to have missed the fact I went to school.”  
Gemini says sarcastically. As she raises her right forearm from the table where it had been crossed over her left and extends her middle finger to flip Dean the 'bird'.

“ So we're looking for a girl who knew Bruno, possibly well, who had some kind of event which caused her to become mentally or socially impared and removed from school. Where is the first place we look?” Sam asks Gemini, trying to sort through the information they have at hand. Dean who had tried to play it cool by just smirking when Gemini flipped him the bird; now has his own elbows on the table as he propels himself forward to emphasise to Sam just how ridiculous he thinks the whole notion is.

“ Come on man! Surely you're not taking this seriously?”  
Dean asks a look of sheer disbelief plastered all over his face. Sam who is inwardly seething at his brother being a 'jackass' turns to reply to Dean; his demeanour steely and his tone clipped.

“ Yeah! Dean I am; giving some of the things we have witnessed I can't believe you aren't. It is entirely possible that if we can find the girl we can find out what happened to Bruno and then we will know whether the case is a dead end or we have reason to follow your instinct about Eric.” 

Dean looks ready to have a go at Sam but Sam doesn't give him a chance as he turns to Gemini cutting Dean's unspoken comment dead in it's tracks.

“ So where would we find a girl who knew Bruno then became a recluse.”  
Dean slumps back in his chair like a child in a huff. Gemini looks thoughtful as she ponders Sam's question.

“School Yearbooks would be a good place to start or the rumour mill.”  
\-------------------------

Wheeling, WV (Oct, 25th, 2007)

The clock reads 06.00 am, Greta stirs from sleep opening her eyes to the early light of a grey morning and a strong urge to see Bruno. She holds her breath a moment to hear if anything or anyone is stirring elsewhere in the silent house. The rhythm of her own beating heart is her only reply. 

Her own beating and breaking heart. Greta had dreamt of Bruno in the night and in her dream she could not deny what she had been turning a blind eye to in her waking life. Bruno was sick; possibly even dying. Twenty years in the record had taken it's toll on him. Unlike Greta he hadn't aged a day. He was still Bruno at seventeen but a tired, pale and sick looking Bruno of seventeen. A Bruno who tried to hide he was in pain.

Greta had never questioned where Bruno went when he left her; it suited her not to. Having him ever at her side again had been the greatest joy in her otherwise lonely life. A life where because of her condition people tended to talk at her, rather than to her. The only acceptions being the 'old Aunt Helen' who had been gone for about a decade now. Replaced by this new and false version who's smile never met her eyes any more and Bruno. Her one man captive audience.

Greta climbs out of bed and pads over to the window sliding it open. The brisk October air sends a shiver up her spine as it breezes easily through the cotton of her nightshirt. Padding over to the stereo she switches it on. The album is already on the turntable, Greta had fallen asleep listening to it, laying in Bruno's arms; the place she felt safest in her otherwise frightening world. 

Lifting the needle to start the table spinning, Greta lays the needle down gently on song two on side two; the song with which it had all began 'Somewhere down the Crazy River'. As expected Bruno sprang into life; this time standing by the open window. He wasn't steady on his feet but he tried to play it down as stepping forward to embrace Greta. Even her hugging him caused him pain; she noted by the sharp in take of breath he took when she slide her arms around his ribs. At that moment she knew what she had to do; she had to be a big, brave girl and set Bruno free. Kissing Bruno one last time, Greta lets go of him and walks back to the record player; praying what she is about to do works. She abruptly jumps the album dragging the needle back and forth across it's surface. 

With the bounce of the first jump Bruno, flickers out of sight and Greta fears she has made a grave mistake but the moment she drags the needle across the records surface again; this time destroying any semblance of the songs. Bruno reappears, crouching with his hands over his ears. Physically more 'real' than Greta had seen him in nearly twenty years.

Greta, continues to drag the needle back and forth turning the sound of the album into a jumping, stuttering, garble and with every scratch of the needle Bruno come back to the real world until he is once again his physical pre-record self and at that moment Greta drags the needle off the LP, snatches the disc off the player and throws it with all her might across the room. Smashing it against the bedroom wall and just like that; Bruno is free. 

Bruno rises unsteadily to his feet. He looks at this strange yet familiar woman who has to be his mom's age. With tears in her eyes Greta points towards the open window and whispers with determination.

“Go!”

Without glancing back Bruno climbs out of the window and runs against the will of his body which aches with every fibre as though he had gone ten rounds with Tyson. He senses that great danger lies behind him so he runs like his life depends on it, towards the safety of home. The streets he runs through are different somehow; to the ones he remembers. This scares and confuses him but also makes him determined; nothing is going to stop him getting home. Sadly for Bruno, Greta's sacrifice comes ten years too late; the damage done to his body and soul is irreparable. 

At 8.32 am Greta, hears Helen creak downstairs; Saul is still asleep. Passing Greta's door Helen, stops cold as a feeling of trepidation runs across her shoulders. Turning the handle she finds the door unlocked. Pushing it open, she finds Greta sitting on the bed staring at the open window. Silent tears streaming down her face. The broken pieces of record clutched so tight in her hands that she has pierced her flesh with the sharp edges causing blood to run down her forearms and to drip onto her lap. 

Helen walks over to Greta, speechless her brow furrowed by shock and concern. For the first time in a long time; she seems like her old loving self but when she realises what Greta is grasping in her hands her expression twists into rage. 

Helen raises her hand back into the air and brings it down hard. The noise it makes when it connects with Greta's face is a sickening thud. In that moment of rage fuelled connection Helen hurts the very one she swore 'vengeance' to protect; their bond is broken and the last shred of Helen's humanity is lost forever. 

Saul stands at the foot of the stairs watching Helen beat Greta; an evil smile of triumph twisting on his lips. The last obstacle to his plan has been conquered; the breaking of Helen and Greta's bond. 

At last Saul has Helen and her power under his control. Greta is now a sacrifice Helen will willingly make. Saul is finally ready to gather the ingredients he needs. In five days, Eric will be summoned to the house and 'The New Dawn' can finally begin.  
\----------------------

The Glanville Estate, NC (Dec 21st, 1975)

Saul Trammel stands a little way off from Beatrice's property his haunting green eyes incandescent in the last strains of winter sunlight. Or should that be the meat vessel that used to hold Saul Trammel.   
\----------------------  
Saul's Story

Saul Trammel, 28-years old, (formally of Hoboken, New Jersey) thanks to an ill fated black mass in 1967, is now controlled by Frater Omina Vincam. A demon who previously possessed Victor Benjamin Neuburg. a student and devotee of Aleister Crowley. Frater Omina Vincam was a skilled and powerful demon and when Crowley descended to hell he once again became his right hand man.

The 1967 Black Mass had been contrived by a bunch of 'Counterculture' 'wannabes' new to San Francisco. Their aim; to summon Aleister Crowley. Poor, naïve fools who had believed the fairytale 'Counterculture' hype that now painted Crowley as a misunderstood anti-hero. One of the group had got their hands on a grimorie thought to be Crowley's and so they set about summoning the man himself.

The book had however belonged to Frater Omina Vincam and the foolish summoners allowed his demon form back into the world by naively following his instructions on a summoning spell. As thanks for their kindness Vincam possessed Saul.

What followed was a night of hedonistic debauchery, then at dawn while the other members of the naked, exhausted and intoxicated party slept; Vincam (or Saul as he now was) slashed their throat's. He then grabbed his grimorie and in the early rays of dawn stepped out into the world again for the first time in over twenty years. Saul's mission was simple he was here to clear a pathway back to power for his mentor and master, Crowley ; 'The Beast 666'. 

Due to his immense satanic power gathered in life Crowley had found himself in specialist 'lock down' in hell and Frater Omina Vincam was here to break him free and resurrect him so he could complete his mission to dominate the world. A world where the western youth culture of the 60's and 70's would shape the reality of tomorrow. A world where thirty years from Vincam's resurrection Western Society's views will have shifted so entirely under their influence that Crowley's demonic practises and 'Thelemic' tradition will be neutralised in the minds of the people as no more deadly than parlour games. 

A naivety that will make the 'Beast's' rise to power through the demonic enslavement of the masses a cake walk. 

Kick starting such a 'magickal' feat was going to take a lot of specific provisions and an immense amount of power to bring it into being. Saul's first task was to possess and manipulate such an energy. This energy would have to come from a most prolific practitioner of the craft; A practitioner from an ancient line of great magickal power. Frater Omina Vincam in his previous life as Neuburg had encountered one such lady and her name was Beatrice Glanville.   
_____________________

Inside the house Beatrice has been dozing by the light of the fire. She wakes with a start, sensing danger. Her dreams have forewarned her she is going to die today. 

From the corner behind her high backed chair Beatrice hears the soft swoosh of fabric on fabric as Saul's coat brushes his trouser leg as he walks towards her. Beatrice doesn't know his name but she knows it's him; the green eyed,'demon possessed' man from her dream. The one who has come to kill her and steal her families 'Magickal Linage'. 

He won't get it; Holly (Helen) is at the store out of his grasp and although she may not be fully prepared for it Beatrice's power will be transferred immediately to her.

“Why aren't you afraid of me old woman?” Saul asks. His voice soft and deadly like a snake hissing above Beatrice's head; as he appears behind her chair. Beatrice neither flinches or moves and her voice remains even.

“ You will never get my linage from me; so kill me if you must.”  
A dagger gleams in the fire light as Saul slides it from his long black coat raising it high in the air he thrusts it down with brute force slicing through Beatrice's chest pinioning her to the chair.

Saul walks round to the front of the chair and crouches so he is at Beatrice's eye level. She is in the last throws of death gasping for air. Saul's malevolent eyes not only glow in the fire light they seem to burn into Beatrice's soul, she tries to cry out 'no' but can barely shape the word with her lips; her eyes are wide with terror.

“I didn't come for you, you old crone. I came for 'her' and her absolute power fuelled corruption.” Beatrice realises too late who the demon is and what a grave mistake she has made. Her mouth is left aghast as she tries to say his name just as her final breath escapes her.  
\-----------------------

Wheeling, WV (Oct 30th, 2007)

The Winchester boys are nearly up and about when Gemini knocks on their motel room door. Sam in shirt and suit pants is tying his shoe laces while Dean is still in the shower.   
Knowing this was going to be a research mission Gemini has dressed appropriately. Her usual jeans, ethnic top and boots combo has been replaced by a smart pair of grey tailored trousers, a crisp white blouse (which accents her chest in a classy way) and a smart pair of grey dress boots. 

Her usual array of wild curls have been tugged and teased into a bun with a few loose tendrils framing her face. She's even gone a little 'Clark Kent' by finishing the look off with a pair of 'Geek Chic' glasses that highlight her large ocean blue eyes.

Sam loops his laces into a bow. Ensuring the knot is nice and tight; he rises from the bed and walks over to the door. Spying Gemini through the peep hole he opens the door and lets her in. Gemini let out a low whistle; checking Sam out in his dress threads. She smiles up at him and gives a nod of approval.

“Very nice!” 

Sam blushes a little, smiling shyly.

“ You're looking pretty good yourself there Gemini; I almost didn't recognise you.” Sam then blushes beetroot, thinking about what he has just said. He stammers as he tries again.

“ I mean you, you look nice generally its just I....”

Gemini laughs, tickled by what a cute puppy Sam is when he stammers like that. He makes her want to comb his hair and tie his tie for him. There is definitely something about young Sam that brings out the maternal in her.

“ Thank you luv, very kind of you.” Sam smiles relieved he hasn't insulted her. Gemini scoops his tie off the back of the chair and hands it to him with a smile. 

At that moment Dean emerges through the steam from the bathroom; water glistening on his torso. One white motel room towel hangs around his waist, his voice booms out from inside another white towel like he is deaf; as he rubs up his hair.

“ You nearly ready Sammy? Her highness will be here any time can't keep her waiting..” Dean says his tone dripping sarcasm.

Sam smiles at Gemini apologetically. A smile dances on Gemini's lips as she waits for the reveal moment when Dean emerges from the towel. All the while her body is tingling at the memory of what it felt like to touch Dean's currently glistening chest and back, how smooth his skin had been against her lips and the taste of it on her tongue.

“ Eh, Dean!” Sam mumbles, embarrassed.

Dean throws the 'hair' towel down on the bed, then he reaches into his duffle bag for his underwear. His back is still to Sam and Gemini as he rolls on some deodorant talking on oblivious.

“ You two certainly hit it off last night so when she gets here you have dibs on her little 'musical mystery tour'. I'll go to the 'Gunnerson' place and check out the story with Eric. OK...? Dean says as he slides his boxers on up under his towel. Discarding the towel he cringes, frozen to the spot when he hears Gemini reply.

“ OK, Dean that will do fine; nice pants by the way. Navy is a good colour on you.” Dean mouths 'Son of a bitch' and briefly goes crimson before turning round to face Gemini with one of his mocking smiles.

As much as he might want to deny it when Dean catches sight of Gemini all dressed up for business he begins to imagine 'business' of their own they could be getting down to. 

He was still imagining it twenty minutes later as he cruises out of town in the 'Impala' following the directions Mindy from the 'Gas and Sip' had kindly written down for him on the back of her phone numbers (home and cell).  
Any other day Mindy, would have shot 'number one with a bullet' to the top of Dean's 'Lust List' but today he couldn't see past Gemini. 

Every time he blinked or his mind wandered. Dean would see himself sliding off her glasses, letting down her hair and wrapping his hands in it's silky curls while they kissed.... 

Every kiss, deeper and more urgent as they tugged at each others clothes; till both their shirts lay tangled on the floor the buttons ripped off and scattered over the room. Casualties to the heat between them that caused need and speed to render unbuttoning obsolete. 

Dean lets out a frustrated growl; it was happening again! What was it about her? She was just an average 'fat chick' how had she gotten this hold she had over him? A hold that drove him nuts and drove him wild in equal measure? 

Suddenly, the road behind Dean is filled with police patrol cars (lights and sirens flashing). Dean quickly tries to formulate a plan of action; a reason why he is there but it isn't needed as one by one the cars 'shoot' out past him and speed off down the road.  
\---------------------  
Across town at the Library, Sam and Gemini have been scanning Bruno's class yearbooks trying to see if any of the girls in his class made any 'sudden disappearances'; if anyone's parents 'had to take them out of school'.

The librarian, an attractive redhead in her late thirties has been watching them with interest; a fact that hasn't escaped Sam and Gemini's notice. They are fully focused on the job at hand but are also staying aware of the movements of their 'nosey neighbour' who seems to be making it her business to edge nearer their conversation one 'Dewey Decimal' section at a time. 

Gemini, looks down at the full page memorial to Bruno that appears in what would have been his 'Senior Yearbook'. 'Poor guy!' she thinks. knowing it is futile to search the book any further she closes it and set it aside.

“ Well Samson, looks like we only have two ladies to choose from.”  
Sam smiles at Gemini's silly nickname for him and nods.

“We sure do, Linda Walton who disappears after Junior Year and Greta Foster who doesn't make it as far as 8th grade.”

“Little Miss Librarian is inching ever closer Sam. She looks round about the right age to have been at school with our 'mystery Miss'. How do you fancy playing journalist? Using some of that 'boyish' charm of yours to see what you can fish out of her?...” Sam gives a shy side smile, blushes a little and then says.

“ Sure, sounds like a good idea.” Gemini smiles at the confident reassurance that then washes over Sam as he prepares himself to go and charm some information out of 'Library Lady' . Patting Sam on the shoulder as she rises from her seat. Gemini walks behind his chair, she takes her mobile phone out of her bag. 

“ OK, Robert Brady of 'The Wheeling News Register', snoopy librarian in coming I'm off to make a fake phone call; do me proud!”  
\-------------------  
As Dean rounds the bend that leads up to the 'Gunnerson' Place, the destination of the speeding cop cars becomes oh so clear. The farm is crawling with cops and crime tape and Dean can only presume that the bloody middle aged female corpse that is being lowered off the prongs of some form of farm machinery that has bust through the wall of the barn spearing her through and lifting her in to the air is Aileen Gunnerson.

Climbing out of the car Dean slides his fake FBI ID into his jacket and heads for the nearest officer to find out what has gone on? 

As he approaches a young deputy in his early twenties, who looks 'wet enough behind the ears' not to rumble his fake ID; Dean gets a sinking feeling in his gut. A feeling that tells him Eric has left the building.   
\--------------------  
Back at the library, Sam and Gemini are making their exit. Sam's chat with Cindy Roberts, the 'super' chatty librarian had been a mine of information. It seems working in the library means you are the hearer of all the gossip and it leaves you bursting to tell someone, anyone!

Cindy, had confirmed Greta Foster as their potential 'Angie', she and Bruno had been inseparable right up until the week before 8th grade when a major fall had left Greta with severe brain trauma and a child like mentality. Cindy couldn't state enough how sorry she felt for 'poor Greta', stuck living with that Aunt of her's who Cindy was sure was some kind of witch. 

Sam had searched the records of the local newspaper to confirm Cindy's story and sure enough there was Greta and more curious still the hero in Greta's story, had been none other than Oliver Kearns.  
\----------------------

Wheeling, WV (Aug 23rd 1983)

It was just a little before noon when Greta made her way through the rain soaked woods to the treehouse. She had decided to get there early so she could spruce the place up a little, to make it somewhere that represented more the teenagers she and Bruno now were and less the kids they used to be. 

Greta's red raincoat was soaked from the day's unrelenting downpour but not even the weather could dampen her 'first love' endorphins high. She had decided to surprise Bruno with a little treehouse picnic. Her backpack was fit to burst stuffed with snacks and drinks, a throw, cleaning products and her cherry cola chap stick. All essential for the afternoon ahead. Little did Greta realise that like her red hooded counterpart in the fairy tales a 'Big Bad Wolf' was also waiting for her at her destination.  
\-----------------------

Oliver's Story

Those who knew Oliver Kearns described him as a loveable brother, a cool Uncle, a longed for baby boy; a generally nice guy.

Those who 'really' knew Oliver Kearns, those who ran into him in back alleys and dens of ill repute described him as a gambler, a coke addict, a ruthless manipulator and a nasty drunk. 

Oliver had been a much longed for late baby and because of this he had been spoiled by his mother and sister from his earliest memory. He learned early how to manipulate to get what he wanted from women and on the occasions when he didn't, he would head for the nearest dive bar or red light area and take his nasty and brutal frustrations out on some unsuspecting hooker or woman of easy virtue. 

For all the love Bruno's mom and his grandma thought they were instilling in Oliver they were in reality creating a monster. Adoration isn't love and like any drug you become addicted to. When it runs low the addict gets nasty.

Oliver watches Greta approach through the grimy treehouse window. He had been waiting there in the dust and dim light of the little hut for what had seemed like hours.

As ruthless in a rage as he was; even Oliver had questioned the acceptability of what he was about to do but time had led to more of that great whisky the odd green eyed dude at the liquor store had recommended and the whisky had awakened a voice in Oliver's head that kept telling him he had a right.

Helen Walker had spent most of that summer tempting and teasing him with her big eyes and tight ass. Accepting rides, meals and drinks for free.   
Oliver had never waited so long to receive 'return payment' from a chick and just as he was sure it was about to come due she had taken off to California leaving him empty handed, tight in the pants and raging angry.

That was when Oliver decided if he couldn't get return on his investment from the 'real deal', he would take it from the next best thing. Greta; Helen in miniature another little 'tight-ass prick tease' in the making. Sure, Bruno was all starry eyed for her now but one day he would realise that Greta, just like all pretty girls would use her 'fine vessel' for one intent only. to screw over men. The voice in Oliver's mind told him he was doing Bruno a favour, she wouldn't be so smart when he was finished with her and he would get back at Helen into the bargain.

Greta eases her way up the ladder to the treehouse careful of her footing on the damp rungs. Reaching the top she spies a slick of moss by the door and mentally she puts it to the top of her list of things to clean up. She wants to make sure everything is safe, neat and perfect for their afternoon.

Pushing the door open Greta takes a step into the dim light. Almost instantly she is aware of a presence beside her; it's hot breath rasping in her ear and flushing her face, the smell of whisky on it searing her nostrils. Her heart is racing and fear has frozen her to the spot. 

Oliver grabs Greta by the hair and throws her into the corner. The alarm bells ringing all over Greta's body, even at the tender age of thirteen know exactly what this man intends to do to her but her mind can't wrap itself around the fact that this man; is Bruno's Uncle.

Grabbing her by the raincoat Oliver drags Greta to her feet and using the forearm of his right arm he leans his body weight on her chest pinning her to the wall while he fumbles to unfasten his jeans with his left hand.

“ Well, Well little Greta; your Aunt left town with something she owns me so I've decided to let you square up her debt.” Oliver slurs, his lips inches from Greta's face showering her with flecks of drunken saliva.

Greta's heart is still pounding and the adrenalin rush of her blood fuzzes her ears but something else begins to rise inside her too; the need to survive and it is somewhere deep in this feeling that she finds the strength and focus to 'blindside' Oliver with a knee blow to the groin. 

This assault to his manhood knocks Oliver off balance long enough for Greta to escape from the arm weighing heavy on her chest but not long enough to get out the door and out of Oliver's grasp. 

In the end all it serves to do is to enrage his anger and to earn Greta a backhanded slap that sends her sprawling clean out the door landing on her back on the little veranda. Dazed and in agony Greta knows she has to get to her feet as quick as possible if she has any chance of getting to safety. She uses all the strength she has to pull herself up so she is standing with her back to the railing; the only protection between her and falling.

The raging snorting beast that is Oliver fills the doorway ready to lunge for her and drag her back inside. So in that split second of sheer terror and panic Greta takes the only option of escape that comes to mind and throws herself backward over the railing; smacking her head off the edge of the deck as she falls into oblivion. The smell of mildew and wood and the image of Bruno's face filling her mind; comforting her as she slips into darkness.  
\--------------------

Clay Avenue,Wheeling, WV (Oct 30th, 2007)

It's the day before trash day on Clay Avenue. When Sam and Gemini reach Greta's house, a broken LP, sticking out from the trash catches Gemini's attention. Curious she lifts the piece with the largest bit of label on it out of the bin to see if she knows the album. Sam is scanning the street but turns back quickly when he feels a hand slide down his back. He finds Gemini on her knees; she seems to be in some sort of a trance. Sam pulls her to her feet and knocks the piece of vinyl from her shaking hand. Gemini takes a huge 'gasp' of breath, like she has been under water and is coming up for air. 

Gemini! Gemini! Are you OK? Sam asks, shaking her gently. Concern etched on his face.

“Sam, I know what happened to Bruno!” Gemini whispers astonished and still a little out of breath. 

“ When I was holding the record his life literally flashed before my eyes. 

“What did you see?” Sam urges.

“There was darkness and agony as something sucked the life out of his soul and then Robbie Robertson's voice singing, first faint then louder and suddenly he was in a bedroom with a girl. Greta I think? Then he was safe. Then back into darkness and fear and agony and then back to the safety of Greta; at least I think it is Greta she seems to be getting older and Bruno's pain gets more intense in the dark and his ability to shake off the pain and weakness gets slower as she seems to get older but the change between is always led by Robbie Robertson's songs. His songs seem to play the whole time Bruno and Greta are together and when they stop; Bruno goes back into the terrifying 'soul sucking' darkness. Then there was scratching and the music stuttered and stammered as though it was being damaged then Bruno's presence in the darkness got weaker and weaker as what sounded like a demon's wailed and then nothing. He was trapped in that LP, it's a Robbie Robertson LP; he had to have been.”

At that moment Sam spots a teen boy on a bike approaching from further along the street, so he grabs Gemini by the hand and pulls her into the coverage of a group of trees who's foliage seems to hide the right hand side of the 'Foster' place from the view of the neighbourhood; it also allows Sam and Gemini to be hidden from the sight of the 'Foster's' front door.   
As they huddle together in the branches, Sam's pocket begins to vibrate. Sliding out his cell phone he flips it open. Dean is calling from the 'Impala' to tell him about Alieen's death and Eric's disappearance. As Dean fills him in on the details, Sam watches the boy on the bike turn up the path to Greta's house; something about the way he moves isn't right. Sam looks closer, he could almost swear the boy is in some sort of trance and it's then he spots the blood on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. As the boy approaches the house an unseen person opens the front door and he walks inside.

“Dean, you didn't by any chance see a picture of what Eric looks like, did you?” Sam listens as Dean describes the boy in the photo the officer had shown him.

“That's him, he's here! We are in the cover of the trees on the right of the house; he didn't see us. Yes she is, no we are not. Dean get your mind out of the gutter and just get here, OK!” Sam cuts the call and texts Dean the address then slams the phone shut shaking his head in frustration at Dean's comments.

Gemini has gone completely silent. Sam turns to vent his frustration and tell her that Dean has identified the teen as Eric, when he realises she is not there. Sam crawls a little further through the branches towards the house and there he finds Gemini looking at the window in front of her. Looking out at Gemini, is the pretty but badly bruised face of a brunette in her late thirties.

“Gemini what's...”, 

Gemini, puts her finger to her lips.

“Shh! Sam, it's OK, it's Greta.” at that moment they hear rustling in the trees behind them. Sam reaches round to the back of his waist ready to pull out his gun, when he hears Dean whisper his name just as he pushes through the branches beside them. 

“ Holy crap! What happened to her??” Dean says, wincing at the sight of Greta's bruised and battered face. Sam turns to Dean to explain what he knows of Greta' story; as he does Greta slides open the window and without hesitation, Gemini climbs in.

“What the hell is she doing!!” Dean shout whispers at Sam, Sam turns just in time to see Gemini's ass disappear in the window. Greta has stepped back from the view of the window and Gemini has disappeared. Sam and Dean look at each other concerned. Taking their guns in hand, the brothers edge their way closer to the open window; ready to fire. When they look inside they see Gemini and Greta sitting on the bed. Greta is crying, her head resting on Gemini's chest as she comforts her.

“Well hello..!” says Dean, nudging Sam in the ribs. “What have we here?” 

Sam shakes his head at Dean.

“ That's Greta, Dean; our 'Angie' she may look late thirties but mentally she is nine so get your head out of the gutter.” Sam says shaking his head and climbing in the window.

“Mee, me, mee, me, mee, me! How was I to know?” Dean mutters to no one; making a mocking face at Sam's back as he climbs in the window. Then putting his gun back in the waist band of his suit pants he follows Sam inside. The quartet then spend the next twenty minutes talking in hushed tones and listening to Greta as she tries as best she can to explain what she knows about Bruno, the record and why she was beaten. She also fills them in on what she knows about Eric's visit to the house and the revenge plan she has over heard her Aunt and Saul talk about. Greta didn't know what they were going to do to Eric but she knew it was because of what Oliver did to her. 

Dean, (as always) is not best pleased to hear there are witches involved because he loathes all supernatural evil but out of the wide buffet of evil strange that he feasts at daily; witches are the most unsanitary and twisted of them all. In Dean's eyes anyway; he imagines it is something to do with the fact they are partly human. 

The rest of the house seems silent and as far as Greta knows her Aunt, Saul and Eric are down in the basement. Our band of heroes decide that to have any shot of saving Eric, they are going to have to corner Saul and Helen down there. 

Greta unlocks the door and peeks out to check all is clear to sneak Sam, Dean and Gemini from her room. All seems clear but just as Dean steps over the threshold Helen appears in the doorway of the kitchen catching them off guard. 

Helen flies at them in a squealing rage; with a flick of her hand she spins Dean sideways knocking his skull off the door frame loosening his protective grip on Greta and rattling every tooth in his skull. Dean, sinks to the floor dazed. With another flick of her wrist Helen throws Sam and Gemini backwards into Greta's room, slamming the door closed and locking It. Sam tumbles backwards and is winded when he knocks his back hard against Greta's bed. Gemini's is thrown over Greta's bed into the wall with a sickening thud.

“What a total bitch...” Gemini says a look of annoyance on her face as she rises up from behind the bed; dusting herself down like she has been only looking for something under it. The only indication to prove different being the bare brick work that has been exposed where the plaster has cracked on the wall at Gemini's point of impact.

“ My good trousers too. I'd say the 'Real Aunt Helen', Greta is so distraught about has definitely left Dodge, that's not a woman any more that's a monster ..”Gemini tuts. 

“You OK Samson; are you hurt ??” Sam shakes his head looking at the crater behind him on the wall then staring at Gemini amazed. 

“ Well lets get this show on the road then; Dean is out there with that crazy bitch. She rattled him pretty good and she's got her hands on Greta; the two of them could be in deep shit. “

As Sam stumbles to his feet; Gemini starts to remove her boots and further to Sam's amazement her clothes. When she is finished she stands before him barefoot in a black vest top and leggings that she had been wearing under her clothes. Oddly, around the body and legs her out fit seems to be covered in narrow pockets of varying lengths. Gemini smiles up at Sam and gives him a wink as she lets down her hair. 

Out of her cascading curls falls a blue velvet pouch that she then fastens to a loop at the waist of the black leggings. That is when Sam realises the odd looking pockets around Gemini's thighs and ribcage are lined with spears of all sizes and materials, small ones to the front and back of her torso and thighs and four long handled ones round the outside of her calves.

“ OK, Sam you got your gun? 'Auntie Grizelda' is going down.” 

Sam, retrieves his composure and his gun from where it has landed near the window while Gemini, pushes Greta's bed against the newly exposed wall which is furthest from the door. 

Jumping on to the bed Gemini grabs a gold spear from her thigh belt, then turning to face the wall she places the spear between the first two toes on her right foot, back flipping off the bed, she flicks out her leg, launching the spear into the heart of the wooden door as she flips over, before making the perfect silent landing of a 'skinny' gymnast which is totally unexpected from a woman of her girth.

Sam watches no longer sure he is still awake, as the door begins to crack like a windshield struck by a kicked up rock, then it crashes to the floor in tiny fragments.

Out in the hallway a dazed Dean is holding his own against Helen. The distraction of the crumbling door has allowed him to catch her off guard with a blow to the head. Greta is crouched over by the staircase like a frightened little girl.Suddenly, Saul appears in the kitchen doorway his green eyes radiating with energy. He mumbles an incantation then bangs his foot three times on the kitchen tile and the house begins to shake like it is in the wake of an earthquake. The boxes of entities that were stored all over the house begin to spring open and out from them pour 'suitless' demon's.

Helen grabs a petrified Greta and Saul leads them through the kitchen to the basement while from every 'boxed' room in the house demonic mists descend into Sam, Dean and Gemini's paths to prevent them from following. 

Both Sam and Dean begin firing at will but the demons only wail, disappear a moment then seem to reappear. They can't exorcise and fight for their lives at the same time, they need a way to put these demonic nudes on 'lockdown'. 

“ These must be the 'boxed' things Greta was frightened of, I told you kids have an intuition about these things.” Dean shouts, suddenly sliding under the hall table as a demonic screeching vapour dive bombs him.

Gemini wants to call into question Dean's observation about Greta but now is not the time. 

“ Hey boys, are you up for trying something.”

“ Yeah!” Sam yells just dodging a demonic vapour by the skin of his teeth.

“ Anything would be better than this.” says Dean who is now behind the table with his back to the wall splashing out his dwindling supply of holy water.

“ Greta said there are thirteen of these entities; which are actually demons..” shouts Gemini.

“ Gemini! could you please just get to the fucking point, I'm running out of water.” Yells Dean, who is getting a little desperate; after all he isn't ready to go to hell and he certainly isn't ready to go right now.”

“ OK, keep your hair on! I'll show you.” Gemini reaches into the blue velvet pouch, of 'Paulo Santo' spears and begins to throw them at the 'nude' demons. The demons wail and appear to be pinned to the spot by the spears. Gemini lets out a thankful and relieved puff of breath; she had used the sacred wood to pin 'suited' demons to their vessels but had never tried it on them 'suitless', thankfully it was working. All it took was twelve throws and all the circling nudes were locked in a wailing cloud above them. 

Neither; Sam or Dean know what has locked the demons but as soon as Gemini begins chanting an exorcism they joined in too. Dean has to scrabble to his pocket to find his 'Exorcism' book but even he gives it his best effort. 

The house begins to shake violently as the demonic cloud strains, unable to pull against the lock of the spears and the will of the exorcism. Then in a great, dark, demonic, screaming whoosh: the demons shoot up and out through the skylight. Leaving a freak shower of glass and 'Paulo Santo' spears raining briefly in the hallway.

“ Stinking demons, they always have to be so dramatic with their exits.” Dean observes dryly; trying to pick glass off his jacket and out of his hair. Sam reaches down to pick up one of the spears. 

“What are these made of Gemini? That was some crazy hold they had on those demons.” Dean nods equally impressed. Gemini is picking her way through the glass barefoot trying to retrieve her spears. Sam picks her up and sits her over on the table.

“ I'll get them OK. ..”

Gemini puts her hands up to Sam in a pose of surrender.

“I don't want you cutting your feet. Is it some kind of wood? ” Sam says as he crunches easily through the glass retrieving the spears.

Gemini nods then turns briefly to look at Dean. She can feel his eyes on her and he seems to be looking a little to closely at the clinging curves of her outfit but when she turns round he is busy reloading his gun with salt shells. So she turns back to answer Sam.

“ They're made from 'Paulo Santo' wood. It is a scared wood, usually found in Peru which has energy clearing properties and the power to pin demons to their vessels; so you can exorcise them. We were very lucky I had never tried them on 'suitless' demons before I wasn't sure it would work.”

Sam walks over to Gemini the twelve spears in hand. She opens the little pouch and he drops them inside. Dean walks over to join them as Gemini jumps down from the table. Standing between the giant brothers she looks the height of nothing. 

“ Thanks Sam”, Gemini say smiling up at Sam who's face is nearly a foot above her.” Dean leans across the table to grab his now empty water bottle, in doing so he accidentally brushes his thigh against Gemini's hip and neither of them rush to break the connection. Sam is the one who unwittingly breaks the moment.

“No time to congratulate ourselves just yet guys, we still have to stop whatever is going on down in the basement.”  
\-------------------

The Treehouse, Wheeling, WV (Aug 23rd 1983)

Grabbing her by the raincoat Oliver drags Greta to her feet and using the forearm of his right arm he leans his body weight on her chest pinning her to the wall while he fumbles to unfasten his jeans with his left hand. 

Saul stands over in the far corner leaning against the treehouse wall, watching Greta's reaction. Her face ghostly white and her eyes wide with fear. As much as Saul is enjoying the show he knows it's time to move Greta's story along to the next stage. Pushing himself casually off the wall he strolls over to Oliver and Greta.

“ Well, Well little Greta your Aunt left town with something she owns me so I've decided to let you square up her debt.” Oliver slurs, his lips inches from Greta's face showering her with flecks of drunken saliva.

Saul puts his hand on Greta's shoulder and bends forward to whisper in her ear.

Greta's heart is still pounding and the adrenalin rush of her blood fuzzes her ears but something else begins to rise inside her too; the need to survive and it is somewhere deep in this feeling that she finds the strength and focus to 'blindside' Oliver with a knee blow to the groin. 

Saul steps back out of the way as Oliver stumbles backwards from Greta's blow and Greta tries to run.

Saul gives a little clap “Bravo Greta! But now what will you do?”

This assault to his manhood knocks Oliver off balance long enough for Greta to escape from the arm weighing heavy on her chest but not long enough for her to get out the door and out of Oliver's grasp. 

In the end all it serves to do is to enrage his anger and to earn her a backhanded slap that sends her sprawling clean out the door landing on her back on the little veranda. Dazed and in agony. Greta knows she has to get to her feet as quick as possible if she is to have any chance of getting to safety. She uses all the strength she has to pull herself up so she is standing with her back to the railing; the only protection between her and falling. Once again Saul is standing beside her his hand on her shoulder; his lips bent to whisper in her ear.

The raging snorting beast that is Oliver fills the doorway ready to lunge for Greta and drag her back inside. So in that split second of sheer terror and panic Greta takes the only option of escape that comes to mind and throws herself backward over the railing; smacking her head off the edge of the deck as she falls into oblivion. The smell of mildew and wood and the image of Bruno's face fill her mind; comforting her as she slips into darkness.

Saul stands above her watching. Grinning and giving a little wave. Then he vanishes; leaving a now stone cold sober Oliver staring down at Greta's body in blind panic; He can't believe what he has done; what he almost 'did' to this innocent little girl.  
\--------------------

The Foster's Basement Wheeling, WV (Oct 30th, 2007)

The Foster's basement looks just like a million others, in homes across America. That is except for the bruised woman in her thirties who is shackled by the wrists to an old clothes rail, the boy in his late teens who is 'hypno-locked', to a chair in a trance like state and the powerful witch and the demon disguised as a powerful witch who are standing behind a table laid out like a 'Black Mass' altar.

Sam, Dean and Gemini are inching down the stairs towards this ritualistic scene. Trying to assess what is happening and how best to stay 'undercover' and optimise the element of surprise. Thankfully all the basement's clutter has been moved to the outer edges of the large space allowing plenty of coverage for the hunting trio to hide behind. Helen turns to Saul and strokes her finger down his cheek, she backs him hard against the wall and they begin kissing passionately.

“Oh great...” whispers Sam rolling his eyes. 

“ That's all we need free middle aged, monster porn. No doubt you'll be enjoying it?” Sam says turning to Dean who is looking kind of queasy.

“ Are you kidding, Sammy? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. That's just not right... and poor Greta..” 

Sam looks surprised and makes a mental note that 'yes' Dean does have sexual limits after all.

“Shh!”, Interrupts Gemini. Dean is not impressed at being shushed.

“ Well excuse us, for interrupting you getting your middle aged, monster freak on.” Shout whispers Dean. Looking at Gemini in disgust.

“ No! You clueless gub, Look!” Gemini whispers, pointing over at Saul's face.

“ His green eyes have turned demon yellow”.

Sure enough while Helen is busy kissing his neck Saul has allowed his true demon-self to manifest. Something was about to happen. Saul backs Helen towards the altar. When she reaches the edge she perches there and lays back on it Saul is now standing between her thighs. He slides his knife out from it's sheath and Helen smiles up, licking her lips, totally trusting that Saul will not harm her; that he is about to use the knife to rip open her blouse. 

Saul does exactly that and then proceeds to kiss her throat and breasts. Helen writhes beneath him.

Dean stares at the scene open mouthed; astonished by how truly freaky this pair are. Also, a little turned on by the knife play. He makes a mental note to try it sometime. At that moment Dean's 'sidetrack' mind is rudely disrupted by Greta's sudden scream. 

Saul, who had previously been laying on Helen kissing her passionately has used that moment of distraction to take the impressive blade in both hands and rising back to his feet proceeds to drive it swiftly through Helen's chest. Helen stares at him barely alive; blood forming at her lips and choking her convulsing throat. Saul rips the necklace he had given her from her throat, laying it loving on the table.

“Saul!” Helen is barely able to utter.

“ I'm not Saul you stupid, naïve, whore!” Vincam shouts as he carves into Helen's chest crackling her ribs open and yanking out her seared and blackened heart; showering himself and everything around him in Helen's blood. An evil smirk on his face as he licks it off his lips.

“ My name is Frater Omna Vincam and this..” Vincam spits waving Helen's sin blackened heart aloft. 

“ Is all I want from you, you wasted hag.”

Sam, Dean and Gemini have began to edge closer again; worried for Greta and Eric. They have managed to get down to ground level and are crouching behind a set of cabinets. Looking for a route closer to the action. 

“ You should be honoured...” Saul says gently bending toward Helen's warm corpse and passionately kissing her aghast mouth. Looking almost lovingly into her dead eyes.

“ Your despicable and dead heart, my dear is what will nourish 'The Beast 666', back to strength so he can resume his quest to reign as a high priest over human kind.” Vincam removes himself from between Helen's thighs and her body slides to the floor like a disregarded rag. Greta wails at the sight of her beloved Aunt's corpse. Straining to get free but unable to move.

“ 'The Beast 666', why is that familiar? ” Sam ponders aloud.  
Gemini nods her head in agreement as she is thinking the same thing. Dean shakes his head at them in frustration.

“It's familiar because it's the call sign for Satan.” 

Gemini disagrees.

“ No Dean, it is the name of a demonic force but it's not Satan.. What is it?”  
Suddenly in a flash it comes to Sam.

“Aleister Crowley..” 

Gemini agrees.That's it Sam; he is trying to resurrect Crowley, so he can finish what he started at the turn of last century!” 

Dean is totally confused and not happy about being out of the loop.

“ What are you pair of freaks babbling about; Aleister who?”

Sam and Gemini just look at Dean waiting for this demon's name to dawn on him. Sam, is especially surprised that the name doesn't ring a bell.

“ Come on Dean, you must have heard of Aleister Crowley? How can you call yourself a 'Led Zepplin Superfan' and not know about Crowley?”

Gemini is trying to suppress a smile.“ Do you seriously refer to yourself as a Led Zep superfan?” 

Dean already pissed off that he doesn't know who this Crowley guy is, is in no mood to be mocked. 

“ Yeah I do. Do you have a problem with that?” Dean whispers threateningly. 

Gemini backs off knowing this would be a really bad time to kick off an argument with Dean; especially when the potential confrontation seems to be arousing and annoying her in equal measure. So she smiles sweetly, looks Dean in the eye and says. “ Nope. Zeppelin are a fantastic band to 'Superfan'.” 

Dean is also aroused by the potential fireworks but Vincam now seems to have turned his attention to Eric so he has no choice but to 'stow his crap' with Gemini and focus on the job at hand.  
Vincam, lifts Helen's necklace from the table and turns and walks to Eric, standing astride Eric's knees He grabs him by the hair jolting his head back then forces his mouth open by squeezing his jaw. Vincam, smashes the necklace he has been holding in his other hand off the pillar to the left of Eric and a lazy demonic smog slides out from it's broken stone. It buzzes over to Eric's open mouth like a thick cloud of mosquitoes (or as Gemini might say midges); then begins to force it's way in. 

While Vincam's back is turned Sam, Dean and Gemini take the opportunity to ease their way another step closer by sliding around the front of the cabinet and crouching behind a wicker hamper and some stacks of boxes . 

Eric's muscles, gullet and gag reflex try to fight against the invasion of the demonic presence as it stretches them to their limits but the demon has taken hold of Eric's body which would have made it impossible for even a conscious Eric to vomit it back out. 

Vincam,lets go of Eric's face and his mouth droops shut as his head rolls forward. He moves to the table again and picks up Helen's blackened heart. It oozes a putrid trail of blood on the floor as he carries it over to Eric.

Throwing his own head back Vincam, raises Helen's heart up high and squeezes it, allowing the blood to slide into his mouth and over his lips like he is savouring oysters, licking his lips in lust filled delight; Vincam grabs Eric's hair again. He tilts Eric's head back abruptly and then he bends down and kisses him with the same forceful lust. This awakens something in Eric and he begins to stir from his unconscious state.

Eric, opens his eyes weak but responsive. He tips his own head back mouth wide like a baby bird. Vincam squeezes the remainder of the putrid blood from Helen's heart into his pleading mouth. Eric drinks slowly at first and then like a man with a desperate thirst that hasn't been satiated for decades. Once he has drank Helen's heart dry. Vincam strokes Eric's cheek in loving worship and hands him the remaining heart which Eric, devours ferociously. 

Sam, Dean and Gemini remain huddled behind the stacks; each of them regretting every item of food they had eaten that day as the sight of Eric's 'monster munch' is forcing said items out of their stomachs and back up into their throats. They each try to focus on the job at hand. Vincam has now lifted a goblet and dagger from the table and is heading over to Greta.

He looks at Greta like a lion about to lunch. Leaning right in so he is inches from her face; Vincam speaks to her in a voice that is calm and threatening in equal measure. Stroking her cheek and throat with the blade edge as he does. Greta can hardly catch her breath and is shaking; out of her mind with fear.

“ Dear, sweet Greta. Don't be afraid. It will only sting a little; but our lord will reward you greatly for your sweet sacrifice. You as a virgin are a prized delicacy my dear.”

Vincam, leans in, licks and then kisses Greta's throat. She is so horrified she is trembling.

The trio of hunters are desperate to run out from their cover. Dean especially is seething. Greta cries out in pain as Vincam slashes her wrist with the dagger draining her blood into the goblet. She feels her body getting weaker as he does. Gemini, has to grab Dean by the arm to stop him from busting out from behind the boxes too soon and blowing their cover.

“ I'm gonna kill, that creepy son of a bitch” Dean whispers angrily through gritted teeth. Something dawns on Gemini as she grips Dean's arm.

“Ow, OK I'll stay, enough with the death grip.” Dean whispers wincing.

“ She isn't a virgin..” Sam and Dean look at Gemini confused. Then it begins to dawn on them.

“Are you sure.” urges Sam.

“ Yes, I saw Bruno and her ' you know' when I was in the record vision.”

“In the what??” asks Dean exasperated again. Sam can't wrap his head round the notion; he screws his face up in disbelief.

“ But she is...” Sam starts to protest. 

Gemini cuts him off.

“ Were you going to say she is nine?”... Sam nods. Both Sam and Dean look confused and uncomfortable at the thought of Greta being a 'sexual being' like any other woman.

“ That thought right there is a huge side effect from society's need to desexualise, the disabled and impaired. Greta is a woman in her thirties with all the 'wants' and 'needs' that go along with that. She isn't a little girl of nine trapped in a woman's body; her way of comprehending things and her level of emotional expression are what gives that impression...”

“ It's not like that with her, the way it is for other girls. Gemini, she could get so easily abused. I mean I'll admit it when it comes to sex I will give most things ago but a girl like Greta never! She is a sweet innocent kid.”Dean says pretty shaken up by the thought that some dirty, poor excuse for a man touched Greta. 

“ I see what you mean Dean; a woman like Greta can be very vulnerable but this wasn't a case of Greta being forced against her will or being manipulated into anything. It happened with Bruno, the love of her life. He was trapped in her record for twenty years. He loved her, he made her feel safe and yes at some point that love led to them having sex. We could debate the 'legal' and 'moral' of it till we are 'blue' in the face but it has happened.”

Vincam, takes the goblet to a recovering Eric and helps him drink from it. Greta, is struggling to stay conscious but in a barely audible voice manages to speak and what she says confirms Gemini's vision and rocks Vincam's plans on their heels.

“I'm not a virgin.” As if on queue Eric begins to choke and a combination of blood, foam and steam pour out of his retching mouth like someone is pouring some sort of demonic bubble bath inside him. 

In a fit off yellow eyed rage, Vincam dives at Greta grabbing her by the throat. The moment his hands connects with Greta's neck; Dean is out from behind the boxes like a shot. Running at Vincam, firing at will.

“ Pick on someone your own size, you satanic 'son of a bitch'” Dean yells propelled forward by his rage. Sam tries to play a smarter game and sneaks round behind an old dressing screen that stands behind Greta. 

When it becomes clear his salt shells do next to nothing to Vincam, Dean dives at him instead, punching him in the face and knocking him off balance. The scuffle causes the rail that Greta is tied to to fall backwards to the ground. 

Eric still possessed by the demonic spirit of 'The Beast 666' is weak but conscious. Vincam has dropped the dagger by his feet in the scuffle so Eric reaches down to pick it up. Vincam gets to his feet just as Eric grabs Dean by the leg and yanks him to the ground. Even Weak 'The Beast' is stronger than most human men. Both of the demon's are closing in on Dean who is scrabbling to get to his feet. In a split second of the moment, Gemini grabs two 'Paulo Santo' spears from the bag at her hip. Throwing them across each other she aims one to pin Vincam to the wall and the other to pin Eric to the floor so he can't reach Dean. 

Dean is blindsided by the sight of the spears heading his way and regains composure just in time to dodge the spear aimed for Vincam; as it whistles passed his ear then slices into Vincam's chest. Sam realises what Gemini is doing and begins exorcising the demons out of Saul and Eric. Gemini joins him chanting. Dean crawls across the floor to Greta as 'all hell breaks loose' behind him. 

Eric and Saul's bodies are flailing and thrash against the pin of the holy wood; so fiercely that all of their bones are shattered by the repeated impact. Vincam and The Beast finally burst free from their 'meat suits' and are sucked back to hell, smashing the basement's tiny windows, leaving a crater in the concrete floor of the basement and ripping out the vents in the process. Eric and Saul's bodies look like they have been run over by the tracks of heavy machinery.  
Greta, is weak but walking and talking as Dean, helps her to her feet. Sam, rips a t-shirt from the nearby laundry pile into strips and quickly bandages up Greta's wrist. Gemini comes over to help. Dean stares at her, anger etched on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking, you stupid, fat, bitch!? You could have killed me; I had it under control!”

“Dean!” Sam shouts, at his brother barely containing his anger at Dean being so unreasonable when in reality Gemini's quick thinking had saved him.

Gemini's face turns crimson, hurt and rage have set her blue eyes alight. She stares Dean in the eye and in a clipped tone that is almost so calm it's menacing she says.

“I was trying to save your arse, you ungrateful, big mouthed, cunt!” 

Dean stunned by the deadly tone in Gemini's reply and the hurt in her eyes doesn't say another word but he is still seething. 

Gemini turns her back on Dean hurt beyond words. Not since she had been a little kid back in the 'South-West' had she been so stung by such unprovoked and hurtful words but she couldn't let it show. If she was going to cry it would be at the motel, away from the Winchesters. She wasn't going to give another 'arsehole', the chance to laugh at her tears, her size and her expense. She had made that promise to herself a long time ago. 

“Here Sam, I'll take Greta upstairs. I think sadly, the only way to clean up this mess is to do a 'Sunny Came Home' and burn the place to the ground.   
Sam nods and pats Gemini's shoulder.“Gemini I'm sorry..” but Gemini doesn't let him finish. They still had a job to clear up . 

“ I'll take Greta upstairs and try and stop the blood flow but we are going to have to make it look like she cut herself escaping the fire, too many accidents in the same house on the same night equals to many questions.” 

Sam nods in sombre agreement. Gemini, takes Greta's weight around her shoulder and helps her ease up the stairs, 

The brothers work 'clean up' in silence. Sam can tell Dean is as mad at himself as anyone else is. They wrap Eric's body in a sheet and clear it, Vincam's grimorie and the other tools for the 'Black Mass out of the basement. Then they start a small fire using the bodies of Saul and Helen as starter fuel. Dean helps the fire to spread up to the next floor before he and Sam make their exit out the back door. 

Sam texts Gemini to say they have gone and the second she sees the smoke she and Greta better get out too, he will be waiting for her round in the next street. 

Gemini and Greta can smell the smoke and feel the heat as it snakes it's way through the kitchen. The time is now; Gemini smashes Greta's window and they climb outside and run through the trees. As planned before they reach the end of the foliage they separate; Gemini dives into the neighbouring garden banging their door alerting them to the fire, Greta falls exhausted at the end of the garden where the 'alerted' neighbour runs out to her aid. In the chaos of emergency and the sound of the 'wailing sirens' (that Dean called). Gemini mysteriously disappears into the crowd. 

By the following week, Greta will be known as the only survivor of a tragic house fire and Eric's body will be found back on his own farmland. The Gunnerson/Kearns, murders will remain a tragic unsolved mystery for the town.  
\----------------------

'The Friendly Inn', Wheeling, WV ( Oct 30th, 2007)

“So what your saying is Jimmy Page, purposely bought this 'demonic nut job's' house, a house where they think 'Crowley', actually set demon's free on purpose??”

Dean says, looking over Sam's shoulder at a website describing 'Boleskine House' (formally 'Bolskine Lodge') which lies along the south side of Loch Ness between Foyers and Inverfarigaig.

“ He sure did Dean, in 1971. Jimmy Page, was obsessed with Crowley, as were a lot of those on the 'Counterculture' scene in the late 60's early 70's. Even 'The Beatles' put Crowley, on the cover of 'Sgt. Pepper's.' They all seemed to think He was just some misunderstood 'anti-hero' not 'the wickedest man in the world' at the turn of the 20th century. It was more than just The Rolling Stones, who had 'sympathy for the devil'. It's rumoured that Page, himself dabbled in black masses and rituals at the house.” 

Dean, looks crest fallen as he sits down heavily on the bed. “ So you mean if I ever get to meet Jimmy Page, I might have shake with one hand and 'gank' him with the other?” 

Sam thinks about it for a second? “Possibly.”

Dean, let out a sigh.“Sounds like there is some major work back in Scotland, Gemini, should be doing.” Dean, looks down at his hands, wanting to broach the subject of 'Gemini' but unsure how; he knows he had been an 'ass' but he is not going to admit it to Sam.

Sam, tries to hide a smile knowing exactly what Dean is thinking; there was something going on between those two and it was time to sort it out.

“ You really should apologise to her you know.” Sam says, in a completely 'non-judgemental' tone, knowing anything less would just make Dean dig his heels in. Dean, walks over to the dresser and starts packing things into his bag.

“ There is no point worrying 'bout it Sammy, she'll be long gone by now and first thing in the 'am', so are we.”

“ She's not. She is over at 'The Farmhouse', I spoke to her fifteen minutes ago, said I'd meet her there for a parting drink.” Dean, does that 'little boy' shuffling in front of the teacher because he knows he's in trouble move; he always does when he knows he is in trouble.

“ So what she say..?”

Sam smiles, as understanding finally dawns for him; Dean was into Gemini. He would have not 'cared less' about what she thought of him otherwise. It was all making sense now the tension was attraction. Sam knows for a fact that if the shoe was on the other foot and he had been the one 'into' Gemini, he would be facing a barrage of 'big girl' jibes right now. Dean could be pretty immature at times. Sam, on the other hand just saw a 'very cool' and attractive women when he looked at Gemini. A 'pretty cool woman' and her 'big breasts' (they were kind of hard to miss).

“About you?”

“ No Sam! About the price of corn syrup! Yeah about me.”

“She said she is 'stone mad' at you.”

“What the hell does that mean? Stone Mad!” 

“ Like, still really pissed.”

Dean nods. “Understandable, I was kind of hard on her. She didn't mince her words either mind you; what was it she called me again ?”

“ a cunt.”

“That was it, doesn't even sound so harsh when you say it there is something about a Scottish accent, it just makes swear words hardcore.”

“ So you do realise your going to have to...”

“ Yeah, Yeah Gandie I know apologies.” Dean grabs his jacket and keys.

“Well you coming or what?”  
\---------------------

When they arrived at 'The Farmhouse' Sam and Dean get out of the car. Sam asks, Dean for the keys so he can get his coat and wallet out of the back seat. He then proceeds to jump into the driver's seat and drive away; leaving Dean at the bar to face Gemini alone.

“Sam!!! I'm gonna kill you!! Son of a bitch!”

A couple of girls walking into the bar look at Dean slightly alarmed so he tries to play it cool.“ Evening ladies” He says plastering on one of his charming smiles. He has no choice but to go inside.   
\----------------------

'The Farmhouse Bar' Wheeling, WV (Oct 30th, 2007)

Dean enters 'The Farmhouse' like Eastwood about to face down the posse. Gemini sits at the bar with her back to him; a glass of Scotland’s finest idling in her grasp.

“Come on you giant ass-hat, you know you have to do this.” Dean says to himself. The blues rock vocals of Paul Rodgers singing, 'Don't say you love me' emanate from the neon of the jukebox. Dean knows the voice like he knows the back of his own hand but he hasn't heard this song before.

The stickiness of the alcohol stained floor below his boots and the smell of old beer, smoke and wood bolster his resolve. Dean was going to have to eat ' humble pie', the only kind of pie he didn't love obsessively; The only type of pie he could barely stomach.

“This is your territory, you can do this.” Dean tells himself, squaring his jaw and shoulders in a physical manifestation of him 'manning up' as he approached the bar. He stops beside Gemini. Like all good warriors she senses his presence immediately and turns to look at him. In a swift move of his own. Dean takes the idling glass from her hand and downs it's contents.

“Whoo!! good stuff!” Dean declares impressed.

Turning to the barman, he indicates for two more of those. Gemini shakes her head at the barman to decline. Dean looks at her quizzically unsure if this rejection was for the drink only or an out right rejection of his presence there.

“I'd rather have an Irn Bru,to be honest. For the first time in a long, long time I'm kind of missing just being a nerdy, 'music obsessed' kid at home in Scotland.” 

Dean nods like he understands.

“ So this 'Irn Bru' stuff, sounds good and hardcore; what is it like Scottish Moonshine?” In spite of herself Gemini smiles a little. It is hard to stay angry at Dean's, expectant little boy at Christmas face.

“ Sorry Deano, but no, it's a Scottish soda.” Dean curls his lip in displeasure at such an awesome name being wasted on a soda. Gemini gives him a half smile then looks away focusing on picking at the bar mat in front of her. 

Silence falls between them again. Taking a gulp of his drink for courage, Dean begins his apology. “Look Gemini, I'm....” 

Gemini cut him off her tone kind but resigned.“I know you are Dean..."

Dean tries to continue his apology determined to say his piece now he has the courage.“No, it's not I shouldn't have called you....” 

Gemini cut him off again in the same kind and resigned tone.

“Seriously, it's OK; its not the first time someone has shouted those words at me and it probably won't be the last and believe me I've had it shouted at me just for walking along the street minding my own business. At least you sort of had reason and you are the first to ever apologize, so thanks.”

For the first time Dean looks at Gemini and sees the little girl, she had been. It makes his blood boil to think of her being abused like that. That other people's judgements and harsh words had made that dimpled smile leave her face and caused tears to stain her cheeks instead. 

Dean also felt like a total douche bag. He had touched a sad and vulnerable nerve just to get control back over the undeniable chemistry between them and he wasn't proud of it. Actually, it surprised him that he has such devious emotional complexity in him. 'OK Oprah' Dean says to himself, 'get the hell out of my head!' 

Gemini looked up from her beer mat confetti project.“Giving what you are going through, it's pretty amazing you manage to keep as cool as you do?” 

Dean looks at Gemini confusion in his eyes but part of him knows where this conversation is going.

“ What I'm going through?” 

Pity is shining up at him from Gemini's huge blue eyes.

“You mean the deal, don't you?” 

Gemini nods.

Did Sam tell you?” Dean asks trying to break away from Gemini's intense sympathetic gaze. If she didn't stop staring into his soon to be condemned soul with those awesome searching peepers of her's he was going to end up cracking like a shell. He was just about holding it together but if she keeps this up he is going to crumple and end up with his head on her ample assets sobbing like a baby while she tries to rock his fears into submission. Gemini was that kind of woman. A tough cookie who could become gentle at the flick of the right switch; a huge part of Dean wants to flick that switch.

“ He didn't have to. Every hunter from here to kingdom come knows what you did for Sam and although the two of you try to hide it well, it's haunting you.”

Dean has no words, no witty retort to joke the truth away; so he says nothing. As the burning raging terror of what lies ahead of him starts to snake its way out from where it has been buried deep in his core, his 'want' to flip that switch was quickly becoming a need.

A need to ask Gemini to hold him, kiss him; to take him back to her motel room and soothe his,'weary soul' by rocking the intense fear into submission in the only way that truly gives him any kind of release. He doesn't even care about Mobile anymore. One thing, Dean was always sure of was his ability to read people and he trusted Gemini. Some how he knew she understood. He just needed her wrapped around him, to feel her skin on his; to feel that connection. To not be so alone with it all.

The tune on the jukebox catches his attention again as Paul Rogers vocal flows into an amazing guitar solo of sparse vibrating chords that seem to be speaking Dean's thoughts out loud; thoughts Gemini (unknown to him) can decipher.

“Bad Company?” Dean asks indicating to the jukebox. 

Gemini smiles at Dean's 'change the subject' question.“No, Free.” 

Dean looks impressed. “That guitar solo is amazing!” 

Gemini grins. “That's Kossoff.” 

Dean and Gemini look at each other. As the smiles at the 'Kossoff' moment leave their lips neither can deny the electric urge between them to touch. Gemini lowers her eyes breaking the gaze. Even if the sisters didn't stop them from getting much further than a kiss, she knew beyond the 'foreplay', she couldn't replicate the tales the sisters had told of the amazing night they had shared with Dean in Mobile and she couldn't bare the thought of Dean looking at her with disappointment in those beautiful eyes. Gemini wasn't sure she could be what Dean thought she was; what he really needed her to be. She hadn't felt so sacred and unsure of herself in about fourteen years. 

Gemini's senses begin to tingle. A sure sign that Scathach and Aife are now present. She is aware Dean is watching her as she turns to scan the room, a need she aches too but fears she can't for fill burning in his eyes. Gemini finally, spots the sisters over by the door. The two beautiful, strong and very pregnant warrior women eclipse every man in the room in height. She smiles a little as she thinks about how they would even eclipse Sam.

Like all supernatural warrior type women the length of time the sisters carry their babies is the blink of an eye. Gemini knows she will have to transport them back to Scotland within the next week or else she will have to try to explain to those she meets where the rapidly growing newborns came from. These babies (who's daddy is currently sat beside her at the bar. ) were the last and most important soldiers in the sisters ranks and therefore she didn't know if she would be back in the US anytime soon. 

From the age of Nineteen, with Scathach and Aife at her side, Gemini had trekked the globe, came to the US many times, had more foreplay than all four of the 'Sex and the City' chicks put together and lived and loved the thrill of the hunt. Not even a panel made up of Jerry Springer, Dr Phil and the 'loathsome' Jeremy Kyle,could wrap their heads around the things she has seen and done. This urge to sleep with her sisters (of sorts) 'baby daddy' not even being among the weirdest on the list. 

“Go with him, he needs you!” says, Scathach's voice inside Gemini's head, Aife nods her agreement and then they fade out of sight. 

Gemini gets down from her stool; taking the cash to cover her tab,tax and tip from her purse. She set it down on the the bar expressing her thanks to the barman. Placing her purse back in her shoulder bag she turns to face Dean.

“Well time to call it a night I think, you fancy coming back for a night cap; last night in town and all that?”

Dean looks at Gemini in that intense way of his, his hazel eyes scanning her soul as he looks deep into her ocean baby blues and then at her mouth causing Gemini to self consciously bite her full bottom lip.

“Sure, would love to.” Dean says surprised but ready and willing to have his prayer answered, his voice deep with need and his lips aching to kiss her. 

Gemini is already envisioning the sounds he will make and how shallow his breathing will become when she kisses her way down his throat, undoing a button at a time of his shirt. She imagines stepping back to look into his eyes before they tug his t-shirt over his head. Then pausing a moment to kiss him hungrily; feeling his strong hands stroking her curves as she nibbles on that full bottom lip of his before continuing her trail of kisses across his chest and down his torso. The anticipation of what lay ahead makes Gemini physically shiver like a teenage girl out on her first drunken Saturday night, minus a coat and in a dress that exposes more goose-bumped flesh than necessary.

As they reach the 'Boss', Gemini's favourite Blue Nile, song 'Saturday Night' (her final choice on the Jukebox) begins to play inside. Dean can't help but notice Gemini is physically shaking. He wraps his arms around her to warm her body and stave off her sudden shivers. Gemini's nerves become soothed by the warmth of his caress and the clean and musky smell of his body.

The combination of the 'need' they have for each other, the strength Dean gains from soothing Gemini and the beautiful melodic tones from the jukebox seem to hypnotise them both. Arms wrapped for warmth become hands stroking and lips kissing in hunger. Dean's hands tangle into Gemini's hair, her hands move up inside his shirt stroking the silky warm skin of his muscled back. Then Dean's mouth is sucking and kissing at Gemini's ample breasts while Gemini runs her hands through his hair. 

Gemini's mind fuzzes in and out of bliss as she stands with her back pressed to the door of the 'Boss'; Dean's face in her cleavage. He is flicking on every switch in her body and as his hands slip up under her shirt stroking and caressing her stomach she no longer fears what might happen when they finally have sex. She's is going to follow his lead. A thought that doesn't often enter the head of a warrior woman). What did concern Gemini at that moment; as Dean began to unbutton her shirt from the bottom up and his mouth slid to an area achingly close to the buttons of her jeans; was the feeling that ripped through her. A feeling that made her want to unbutton his jeans and her own and feel him slide inside her right then and there. Things were getting hot and hard too fast. If they didn't take this back to her room, soon as; they may well get arrested for having sex in a public place.

Dean feels himself being pulled up by the shoulders. Standing over Gemini he stares at her, his lust drunk eyes searching every inch of her, He is aching to be inside her. Catching her breath Gemini is the first to speak.

“Get in the car Winchester, we need to take this show indoors before we take it downtown; if you get my drift.”

Dean gives Gemini one of his devastatingly handsome grins sliding his hand over her ass as a taster of what was to come. Then he strides off to jump into the passengers seat. Doing the comedic quick walk of a man on a promise.

Gemini smiles, shakes her head, lets out one of those sighs of breath that usually accompany a 'WOW!' moment then turns to jump into the driving seat. Only to find Dean already in it giving her a mischievous grin.

“Can I drive it pleease...?” Dean begs doing his most comedic pout face.“You always have a good ride with me at the wheel.” he says suggestively giving Gemini a wink. Gemini nearly busts out laughing at Dean's comment. She was quite literally counting on that statement.

“OK!”Gemini relents running round to jump in the passenger's side. 

Dean texts Sam as he and Gemini leave the bar. Then Sam doesn't hear from or see his brother until dawn on the first of November. Sam did at one point drive over to Gemini's motel, he could hear music playing (The Seahorses- 'Love is the Law') and voices inside.The muffled gruff tones of what sounded like Dean and the lilt of Gemini's accent. Followed by the types of sounds he never wanted to hear associated with his brother ever again. In the end he just high tailed it out of there unable to shake the feeling as he stood outside the door that he was being looked down on by disapproving eyes. He was right;he was. Scathach and Aife were manning the motel room door. He just couldn't see them.

To give the impression that the time Dean and Gemini spent held up in that room was all laughter and roses would be wrong but they did have fun too.  
The first song on the 'I-Pod happened to be Pat Benatar's 'Shadows of the night', Gemini's way of giving Dean the chance to ask her about Mobile. She wanted to tell him everything; if that's what he wanted but instead he scanned her body as though he were plotting the route he wanted to take over an awe inspiring landscape. Then he scooped her up and threw her on the bed and that's how it all began. 

Yes, they held each other and 'had' each other in every way imaginable by a person who might be slightly...'kinky', but there were moments too when the fear would rear its head and Gemini would hold Dean, stroking him, kissing his face or just 'rocking' him in which ever sense of the word was needed at that moment. Spent; they would fall into peaceful dreamless sleep tangled in the sheets and each others limbs. Waking later to begin again; all the food and drink they might need already in the room.   
\-----------------

As dawn began to rise on the new morning of a new month they both knew it was time to move forward; to get back on the road and pursuing their own journeys. Two nights and a day 'shacked up' in bed would have to sustain them for a while.

Dean, sends a text to Sam, telling him where to collect him and then he and Gemini, feeling like the last two people on earth in the peace of the early morning come together for the last time. The first fingers of cool November sunlight streaming in on their bodies, Free's 'Easy on my Soul' as their soundtrack and an understanding of a 'moment' forever only between the two of them locked in their eyes.  
\------------------------

Just Outside, Wheeling, WV (Nov 1st 2007)

All though the day is still early, the sun has started it's climb into the morning sky as Gemini pulls the 'Boss' into the abandoned patch of land on the outskirts of town; a patch of land only feet away from where she had sped past the Winchesters in their 'Impala', only three nights before. Gemini, found it hard to believe that so much had happened since that first meeting at the bar. 

Sam watches Gemini and his brother climb out of that awesome car of hers, a look exchanged between them that Sam pretends not to notice as he climbs out of the 'Impala'. A smile dances at the corner of his lips ready to betray the happiness he feels for his brother. Dean looks like (at least for now) some of his 'burden' has been lifted.

The engine of the 'Boss' is still running and a new song skips into play on the 'I-Pod. The song is Blue Boy's 'Remember Me'. A fact that doesn't register with Sam because he has never heard it before.

Gemini, stretches onto her tip toes trying to make her five foot-four inches frame a little closer in height to Dean's, six foot-one. He leans forward like he is magnetically drawn to her. She puts her hand on his three day-stubble cheek, stroking it, coaxing his head forward gently so she can kiss him on the forehead. The only way she can break his gaze and stop the tears from welling up in her eyes; the only way she can break the urge to hold onto him forever. 

Her eyes are shining when she releases his face and looks back into his eyes, her heart breaking at the fate she knows awaits him. Dean's hands linger a moment longer where they have rested on her waist. In order to break the intensity of the moment Gemini looks down, sniffs, coughs and then she reaches into the pocket of her long black coat and pulls out a 'homemade' cassette tape. Plastering a smile on her face she hands it to Dean. Before Dean can even speak Gemini turns to Sam.

“ I have a little something for you to Samson; don't worry it's not a hair cut.”  
Sam chuckles a little at the silly joke, not unaware of how silent Dean has become; looking more through the tape in his hand than at it. 

Sam, was going to miss Gemini, he was sure of that. She had made a huge impact on both him and Dean in the short space of time she had been in their lives but he knew whether he admitted it or not Dean, would have more he wanted to remember. 

Gemini, reaches into the backseat of the 'Boss', then re-emerges with a small blue velvet pouch in her hand. She hands it to Sam. Opening it inside he finds a selection of small, beautifully carved 'Paulo Santo' wood spears.

“Wow, their beautiful, thank you.” Sam says taken a back by the craftsmanship and kindness of the gift. Gemini opens her arms for a hug, Sam leans down to meet her embrace.

“ Look after yourself Sammy...” Gemini whispers into Sam's hair and then in a whisper that she hopes is out of Dean's earshot; her voice strained with emotion she says.

“ and look after him; for as long or as little as he has left.” Sam nods as Gemini pulls away. 

The 'I-Pod' skips over onto Gemini's theme tune; Kiki Dee's 'I got the music in me' and just like that the moment is broken.

“ Well boys, I'm out of here.” Gemini strolls over to the open door of the 'Boss'. She strokes her hand down Dean's arm affectionately as she passes, he turns to look at her a hint of longing briefly flits across his expression as they gaze at each other. Gemini gives the brothers a smile and a wee wave and then just like that she is behind the wheel and peeling out of the lot, the music blasting in her wake.

The Winchesters wave and then as the strains of 'Gemini's' anthem disappear into the ether they find themselves back in their own familiar world; just them and the 'Impala'.

Sam tosses Dean the keys, as they walk back to the car in silence. Climbing in, Dean starts the engine, lifting the tape from its case, he slides it into the player. As he reverses the Impala out of it's parking spot. The melodic blues rock refrains of 'Be my Friend' fill the speakers. Sam looks at Dean who as yet has barely looked at him never mind uttered two words.

“So what she give you, is this new Bad Company?”

Dean looks at Sam properly for the first time since Gemini handed him the tape, his usual 'Mr Cool' mask back in place.

“ No Sammy boy, this is 'Free'. Kossoff, you know; makes all the difference.”  
Sam smiles as he looks out his window biting back the urge to remind Dean of the great 'Bad Company' verses 'Free' debate of three nights previous. He would let his big brother have this one. The brothers and the 'Impala' disappear down the road, off in search of the next hunt and in Sam's case; desperately hopeful that somewhere down this road lies the answer to freeing Dean from his trip to hell.


End file.
